“We’re here.” One of the agents Ricky and Miles were working with approached. “Nice suits.”

“I would prefer a black suit, but it will do in a pinch,” Ricky said, pretending to brush dust off his shoulder.

“Where are the men those suits used to belong to?” the second agent asked.

“Hugging it out in a room just down the hallway.”

Ricky quickly opened a door, hoping it would be safe for them to enter. They were standing in what looked like a small closet with brooms, mops, and cleaning supplies stacked on a couple shelves against the wall.

“What’s our next move?” the first agent asked.

“Get to the top floor.” Ricky walked around the small space, looking for anything they could use to help them against Giano and Dego. “There’s someone having too much fun on one of the floors above us.” He grabbed an empty spray bottle and a bottle of bleach. “My bets are it’s Erickson.”

“He is hot from what Preslie has told me.” Miles winked.

Ricky punched his arm. “The poor man may be getting abused and not in the way we all imagined, and you’re making jokes.”

“What?” Miles held his hands up in the air. “Fine, he is disgusting, and we need to stop this charade.”

Ricky poured the bleach into the bottle. “Why am I friends with you?”

“Because you love me,” Miles said, punching his side.

“Love is a strong word. Sometimes I like you.” He held the bottle up. “This will be a good weapon of choice if you want to drop them to their knees quickly.”

The other men grabbed three more empty spray bottles right as the door knob to the room turned. They all four placed their bodies up against the wall and waited for the person to open the door. A young woman in a maid uniform opened the door just enough to reach for a broom and two bottles on a table within arm’s reach. Then she left.

“How the fuck did we dodge that meeting?” Miles let out a heavy sigh.

“Wow, that was too close for comfort. Let’s get out of here and get upstairs.” Ricky hooked the bottle of bleach onto his bag and grabbed the door knob. “Ready?”

The moment they opened the door, all hell broke loose.

Ricky was the first to see the action and took a few steps back and then ducked. He spun up the gun hanging over his shoulder and aimed it at the man to the right. “Four men in front of me,” he yelled and shot off several rounds. “We need to find Giano before he bails.”

“He has to be on this floor still.” Miles shot his gun off several times; one of the bullets went through the center of one of the associate’s forehead. “Two more, come on.”

“Agents down.” Ricky yelled. “Fuck, we’re on our own again.”

“We got this Ricky.” Miles said, shooting his gun one more time and killing the last associate. “Go.”

Ricky took the lead and made his way up the next flight of stairs. He stopped in his tracks when the scream happened again, this time for much longer. “We need to find Erickson and soon.”

“Who invited you?” A voice rang out from the stairway above.

Ricky looked up to see Dego leaning over the railing with his gun pointed right at him. “You did. Don’t you remember?”

“It’s a pity I didn’t have the help make appetizers for the occasion.”

“Yeah, I am a bit hungry,” Ricky rolled his eyes. “Sounds like someone is having a bit too much fun up there.”

“Ella knows how to have a good time.”

Ricky glanced at Miles. “Ella? Do you think it’s possible?”

“Oh, I definitely think it’s possible.”

* * *

“Look.” Ricky nodded to the room behind Dego. The door was ajar, and there was a pair of feet in view. “What, your boss didn’t have an exit strategy this time?”

“My boss?” Dego asked.

“Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, Dego.” Ricky was about fifteen yards from where Giano’s Capo was standing. “You didn’t plan to have a house guest tonight?”

“We were hoping for someone prettier, but that wish failed.”

A scream rang from just down the hallway. They were close to the sound finally. “You better go help her. That doesn’t sound like she’s having any fun.”

“Help her, Dego,” the man hiding behind the door yelled.

“But…boss, I…I can’t leave you,” Dego stammered.

“I can hold my own. Fucking go make sure my daughter is safe,” Giano said, stepping around the door.

Dego ran down the hallway and entered the last door on the right.

“And then there was one,” Ricky said, pointing his gun right at Giano’s head.

“Ricky, it has been so long. How are you, son? How’s that family you were protecting?”

Just looking at the man, made Ricky’s stomach turn. “Together.”

“Yeah, so much better.” The mob boss let out a maniacal laugh. “How’s your girlfriend? Doing okay I hope.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Ricky, stop,” Miles whispered. “He’s doing this on purpose. Don’t let him win.”

“Yeah, Ricky. Maybe you should listen to your friend finally.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ricky scowled.

“I seem to remember Miles told you to get the family to safety all those years ago. You said you would wait till the morning and take them to another safe house.”

Ricky glanced over at Miles. “How does he know that?”

Miles just stood there not saying a word.

“Aw, did the cat get your tongue, Miles?” Giano turned his head to the side.

“Fuck you.” Ricky yelled. He knew something was off. He thought about how Miles told him to get the family to safety, but they had removed all the intercoms to talk privately. Was it possible the boy wasn’t killed, was it a rouse? That seemed too far-fetched, though.

“How did you do it?” Ricky said.

“Do what?” Miles asked.

“You figured it out, eh?” Giano laughed.

“How the fuck did you do it?” Ricky yelled.

“Calm down. You look like you may pop a blood vessel in your forehead.”

Ricky tightened his fists. “How the fuck did you do it?” he said through clenched teeth.

“Ricky, do you think I would really want to kill a young boy? Come on, give me more credit than that,” Giano said and rolled his eyes.

“You hate everyone, especially kids.”

Giano’s shoulders slumped. “Now I feel hurt with that comment. I love kids.” He shook his head. “How could you say that?”

“How many kids did you steal, Giano?”

“I never stole anyone’s kid.”

“Ella was never yours to keep,” Ricky said, keeping his gun pointed directly at Giano’s head.

“Well, that was not my fault. Jason, or Johnny as you all like to call him, he messed up. I knew he needed my help.”

“I doubt he needed your help.”

“Daddy,” Ella cried from down the hall.

“Hopefully Erickson is giving Ella all that she deserves,” Ricky said, trying not to laugh at the thought.

“The one who deserves something is Erickson for hurting my daughter.”

Miles gasped. “Hurt your daughter?”

“Oh, that’s right. We haven’t gotten that far in the conversation.” Giano took a step forward. “Should we continue?”