A chill crept down Valentino’s spine. “Don’t even kid about that, Dario. That creature is dangerous. Hell, if you get out of line, who do you think it’s going to come after? You have one family you care about. That would be me. Emme. Our children if we have them.”
“It won’t be me that steps out of line. I choose a woman, she’s mine for life. I don’t cheat. I keep her. She’s the one who will want to run from the monster.” Dario’s voice turned hard. “It will be the ones she loves in jeopardy, not my family.”
“Shit, Dario, give her a reason to stay if you find her. Bind her to you so she’s at least loyal.” Valentino glanced at his watch. Time seemed to be crawling by. What the hell was taking so long? The entire Ferraro family was searching the club, the dungeon beneath it and every passageway they could in order to find where the women, the teens and hopefully the children were being held. If they couldn’t find them, they would have to take Marge and break her. The thought made him sick to his stomach.
“Only women in cages, Val,” Emmanuelle reported softly in his ear. “No children. No teens. I questioned them. They haven’t seen or even heard any others talking or crying. Their captors never talked about others. They’re in … bad shape. Need medical attention. They’ve been brutalized severely. Have thirteen of them.”
“We’ve gone through the underground passageways thoroughly.” Ricco took up the report. “We’re all convinced no one else is down here, nor have they been.”
“We had to kill five guards,” Vittorio said. “I was able to open the cages, but three of the women can’t walk. You will have to tell us when it is safe to bring them out.”
“Planting charges,” Giovanni added.
“Planting charges,” Taviano echoed.
“Ten men inside main club. Six in dungeon,” Stefano reported. “Two bartenders, both male, both armed, in the dungeon club. Have semiautomatics behind bar. Two bartenders in main club, one woman, one male. Both armed, both have semiautomatics behind bar. Six strippers in main club working on their acts, staying as far from the men and bartenders as possible. All have phones. No women in the dungeon club working at present. Marge, the woman you were looking for, is in the dungeon, in the back office, going over books.”
“Safes?” Dario asked.
“One is in the main club in the back office there. A small safe behind each bar. That money is bagged from the bar safe and transferred to the main safe in the club office. The dungeon and club money seem to be kept separate. The dungeon setup is the same as the one for the main club. Marge has the code, retinal scan and thumbprint to get into each of the office safes. They make a great deal of money. There are cameras everywhere. Bernado is already into her security and has taken over the cameras. He has her video feed. She does like her blackmail, particularly from the dungeon club,” Stefano continued.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Valentino made his way across the parking lot to the front door of Miceli’s prize strip club. He walked with his usual confidence, his men flanking him, and all around the parking lot, an army in suits, gathering, to pour into the club after him. At least they were getting the women out of here. It wasn’t the teens being auctioned off. It wasn’t the children. But it was something.
Luca shot the doorman in the heart twice and pulled open the door. Dario stepped through, gun drawn and shot the two guards as they spun around. One in between the eyes, the other in the heart.
Stefano snapped the neck of the male bartender as he reached for the semiautomatic. Emmanuelle did the same to the female. Both enemies dropped to the floor. Emme didn’t look at Val; instead she spoke quietly into his earpiece.
“Mariko is helping the women get ready to be transported to your medical unit. We don’t have clothes for them.”
“Severu, take care of it,” he ordered his advisor tersely. “Need transport as well for thirteen.”
“On it.” No hesitation.
Valentino had no doubt Severu Catalano would get them everything they needed immediately and ask all the right questions of Mariko about each woman so the medical unit would have an idea what they would be dealing with. Severu was intelligent and more than fast at computing a problem and coming up with solutions. That, as well as his fierce loyalty, was the reason Val had named him as his underboss.
Several of his men rounded up the strippers, who looked very frightened. His men pointed to a corner and told them to sit and not speak. They nodded. Val left them with their phones deliberately. Any stupid enough to try to call the cops would be identified quickly, but more than that, he wanted to know if any of them would try to inform Miceli. It was virtually impossible for them to get a message out. They didn’t know that, of course.
Val and Dario went through the room looking over the remaining men. These were soldiers. None of them would have answers for him. None of them would be able to lead him to the teens or children. He shook his head in frustration and headed for the stairs, flicking his finger toward Romeo and Tore.
“Keep the girls quiet, but treat them gently. They haven’t done anything wrong. When we’re finished downstairs, we’ll let them go,” he said to the two men.
They nodded their understanding. It wouldn’t be so easy to keep the strippers quiet when they killed Miceli’s soldiers in front of them, but that was their problem now.
Val and Dario entered the club called the dungeon. It was called that for a reason. Those women locked in cages were the entertainment while men brought their women to play—and they played rough in this club. They paid a lot of money to do so.
Miceli charged a yearly fee just for the privilege of being a member. He charged an exorbitant amount for drinks and food. There was an astronomical price for the use of private rooms with tools. Not private meaning that others couldn’t see in. You could put your woman on display any way you wanted to. You could have others join in. You just had the use of the room and the toys and furniture in it. The charges piled up from there, but it didn’t matter because only the wealthy played in the dungeon. They played rough and dirty and any way they wanted. There were no restrictions whatsoever.
Stefano and Emmanuelle disposed of the bartenders as Dario killed the one guard trying to draw a weapon against them. Marge was already out of her office and had planted herself on a barstool when she found herself staring at Emmanuelle instead of the bartender.
Emmanuelle dropped the dead man onto the floor and smiled at Marge. “I really suggest you don’t pull that silly little gun you keep hidden in the harness on your right thigh. I’d kill you before you ever got it out, and we have so much to talk about.”
“We do?” Marge deliberately looked over the bar at the dead man on the floor. “I didn’t even see how you got back there.”
Val watched through the mirror as Marge glanced across the room to the other bar and saw the very handsome man who stood behind the bar where her bartender had been. He looked like Stefano Ferraro, but the lighting was so dim, he knew it would be difficult to tell. Marge preened, sitting up, facing toward the bar and crossing her legs. She never looked in the mirror to see Val or Dario behind her. She’d just watched Emme kill a man, but already she was distracted by the thought of Stefano Ferraro in her dungeon club.