LITMIR.BIZ

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hard into Cabhan’s face. ‘And neither is this.’

      Cabhan’s hands shot up in the air as he stumbled back, fear gripping him. ‘Sal, please.’

      ‘Get on your knees … I said, get on your fucking knees, unless you want me to put a hole in you now.’

      ‘Sal, please, Jesus Christ, you and me, we go back a long way. Ti rispetto, ti voglio bene, Salvatore, tu e la tua famiglia.’

      Another burst of laughter came from Salvatore. ‘You say you respect me? You love me and my family?’

      Working hard to push down his panic, Cabhan nodded. ‘I do.’

      Salvatore flicked off the safety catch of the gun. ‘Yet you want to leave and go back home. To me that doesn’t sound like a man who loves and has loyalty to his friends. And a man who doesn’t have loyalty is a dangerous enemy.’

      Bobby Russo, his temper as violent and volatile as his brother’s, had the ability to recognise discretion was sometimes needed. He spoke up as he watched more and more of their guests, curious about the commotion, come outside.

      ‘Sal, why don’t we sort this out tomorrow? We’re celebrating. We’ve all had a good year. We’ve got the rest of the family to think of. They don’t need this. Put the gun away. Cabhan was only calling Franny and Alfie. That’s all. Nessun danno fatto. No harm done … Good? Bene?’ Bobby kissed his brother on both cheeks. ‘Bene?’

      Salvatore stared at Bobby, slowly nodding, his face showing a thousand thoughts. He answered slowly. ‘Sì. Bene.’

      A grin spread across Bobby’s pockmarked face, the handsome Russo genes not having passed down to him. ‘That’s right, Sal. All good. No harm! Nessun problema. No problem!’ Bobby broke his hold, grinning at the guests. ‘Nothing to see here, ladies and gentlemen! Please, continue to enjoy, we’ve talked business too long. Now we celebrate.’

      Helping Cabhan to his feet, Salvatore slapped him hard on the back then pulled out a gold cigarette case from his pocket. He snapped it open, revealing several grams of finely cut cocaine along with an engraved toot. ‘Have a line with me, Cabhan.’

      ‘No, I’m fine.’

      The ice ran back into Salvatore’s words. ‘I said, have one.’

      Cabhan, realising he had no other choice, took the toot, bending over the cigarette case as Salvatore watched him snort a line.

      ‘Again … Have another.’

      Cabhan hesitated slightly, but it was enough for Salvatore to step forward, his face pulled into a frown. ‘Problem?’

      ‘No, of course not, I—’

      ‘Cabhan!’ Alexandra Russo, Salvatore’s spoilt sixteen-year-old niece, shouted loudly, breaking up Cabhan and Salvatore’s conversation as she swayed her curvaceous body down the stairs.

      ‘Cabhan, I want a lift home, now! I’m tired!’

      Salvatore raised his eyebrows, chuckling nastily as he headed back towards the other guests with Bobby.

      ‘You better do as she says, Cabhan. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and that includes not giving her a lift home … We’ll talk tomorrow.’

      Staring angrily at Cabhan, Alexandra drawled in the same New Jersey twang as her uncles.

      ‘In fact, give me the fucking keys, Cabhan. I’ll drive, and you can keep me company.’

      Looking back at Alexandra, Cabhan hid his disdain whilst attempting to sound courteous.

      ‘Ally, I’m happy to take you home, you know I am, but it’s probably best if I drive.’

      Ally licked her lips seductively before her face screwed up in annoyance. She poked Cabhan hard in his chest. ‘Don’t ever try to fucking tell me what’s best, especially in public, or I might have to go and get my uncle Sal to teach you about respect. Capito?’

      Evenly, Cabhan answered, remembering the last occasion Salvatore, on Alexandra’s orders, had paid him a visit to remind him of the Russos’ definition of respect. That particular visit had landed him two weeks in the Lower Manhattan hospital. ‘Oh, I understand, Ally. You’ve made your point very clear … as you always do.’

      A large smile spread across Ally’s face. ‘Then what are we waiting for, let’s go.’

      As Salvatore Russo watched them drive away, he smiled to himself, because although he’d been outvoted by the rest of the Russo family on permanently disposing of Cabhan, he was sure once he’d spoken to Nico that might change. After all, Cabhan had been privy to the family business and there was no guarantee he wouldn’t start shooting his mouth off once he’d left. And the one certainty about dead men was that they couldn’t talk.

       2

      Ally Russo gripped the wheel of her bright red McLaren GT – a sweet sixteen gift from her beloved uncle Sal. The wheels of the performance car gripped and burnt up the road as she took the corners of Highway 34 – Trail Ridge Road – at speed, winding up the Rockies as heavy mist began to obscure the surroundings, making it impossible to see the vast expanse of craggy mountains and aspen forests.

      ‘Ally, for God’s sake slow the hell down!’

      Enjoying hearing the panic in Cabhan’s voice, Ally shouted back, laughing as she did so, her Jersey twang emphasising the mockery in her voice. ‘Are you scared, Cab? You a mama’s boy who can’t handle the speed? Why don’t you try and grow a pair already?’

      Cabhan, keeping his eyes on what was left of the road as the visibility worsened, shook his head, the high-purity cocaine he’d snorted earlier making him edgier than normal. ‘No, I just value my life, and yours, come to think of it.’

      Accelerating as she took the hairpin corner of Fairview Curve, Ally glanced across at Cabhan arrogantly as the deep roar of the supreme engine purred effortlessly into a higher gear. The force thrust the powerful car forward, causing Ally to lose grip on the steering wheel.

      ‘Ally!’ Cabhan yelled as he leant over, grabbing hold of the cream leather wheel, helping to regain control of the McLaren as it snaked dangerously into the sea of mist.

      A slight look of fear passed over Ally’s face before she took hold of the wheel again with a laugh. Relief mixed with adrenalin pumped out of her as she exhaled. ‘That was a close one. What do they say, driving a fast car is better than sex …’ She paused before glancing across again at Cabhan, purring, ‘But I guess that all depends on who you’re having sex with. You never did accept that blow job I offered you. What do you say, Cab? How about tonight …?’

      Not interested in girls the same age as his daughter, especially a spoilt brat like Ally Russo, Cabhan’s tone was hostile. ‘Just pull the fuck over, you’ll get us killed.’

      Ignoring Cabhan, Ally continued to drive as the weather conditions worsened, the switchbacks on the road getting tighter with the five-hundred-foot drop, without guard rails, inches away from the screeching car’s tyres. Below the road the mountain verge dropped away quickly into nothing but air.

      ‘I said, pull over!’

      ‘Fine, spoil my fun!’

      Reluctantly, Ally slowed down, when suddenly a massive impact from behind shunted the car forward, causing the McLaren to swerve, running it up onto the stony edge of the road, smashing the car’s axle along the rock-scattered terrain.

      Panicking as the rear wheels began to lock, Ally screamed whilst Cabhan quickly glanced in the passenger mirror, but in the thick of the mist he couldn’t see anything.

      ‘Ally, you—’ He suddenly stopped, feeling the first prickle of panic as blinding giant beams of

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