Page 44 of Captive Rival: Armani
I switch gears then, asking Clayton how the hunt for the newly discovered mole is going.
“My money is on one of the bodyguards,” I add. “They’ve got higher security clearance and more mobility. But anyway, Dante said you had a few suspects in mind, said you had the mailbox under surveillance. Anybody step out of line yet, or you still waiting for them to make contact with the enemy?”
Clayton takes a breath. “Yeah. Bit of news there. You’re not gonna like it, though.”
“Just spit it out.”
“It’s Donno.”
My chest goes tight. “The fuck? Donno Romero? You’re sure?”
“Caught him red-handed at the box, I’m sorry to say it.”
“Give me a minute,” I say quietly. “This is a hard fucking pill to swallow.”
“It is. Threw me for a loop, that’s for sure, and I know it’s not what you wanted to hear.”
I drop my forehead onto the cool surface of the desk, the room tilting around me. This is unbelievable. Donno has worked for our family since way before my father’s death. The man was my father’s personal bodyguard and then mine when I was younger, before I could take care of myself. He’s watched over all of us in turn, and has taken the security of our household as his personal mission. What the hell did the Brunos offer him—or threaten him with—to compromise his loyalty after all these years?
Not that it matters. In my line of work, there’s no love for traitors.
“Is he in custody?” I finally ask.
“He’s in…our custody. Below ground.”
“Good. Do whatever it takes to get him talking. We need to know everything he gave the Brunos, everything they have on us now. Show no mercy.”
There’s a pause. “You sure?”
“I don’t need you questioning me,” I bark.
“Copy that.”
Resisting the urge to throw my phone, I stand up and pace the office again.
“Look, Armani. I know you don’t need me telling you so,” Clayton says, “but this alliance needs to be crushed ASAP, at all costs. Especially given the Brunos have been working with Donno for God knows how long. They likely know our weaknesses. We can’t play a long game here.”
“You’re preaching to the fucking choir,” I tell him. “The faster we launch an offensive, the better chance we have at destroying them before they’re fully organized.”
“So we’re in agreement then.”
“One hundred percent. I’m going to plan a strike. We’re going to hit them hard, where it hurts. If we take all their top guys out of the game, they won’t be able to recover before we clean up the rest. In the meantime, you work on Donno. We need every last bit of intel we can get from him before he dies.”
“I’ll go visit our friend now.”
“Good. And keep me posted. The second you hear anything worth mentioning, I need you to call. I don’t want to hear about it after the fact, like with your Bratva contact.”
“Like I said, he and I were only talking,” he says. “I wouldn’t tell you we had someone on the hook who wasn’t. That’s the only reason I didn’t—”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it,” I interrupt. “I just…this Donno thing has me in a shit mood.”
“I get it. Just let me handle him and see what I can find out. I’ll be in touch.”
We hang up, and I stare out the window trying to ground myself, my mind fully blown.
I never would have suspected Donno. Never would have even thought to suspect him. After decades of service, he’s practically a member of the family, and I’m not talking about the mob kind of family. Who knows how much longer this would have gone on without Clayton.
There’s something else nagging at me, too.
