Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 314 -

*Giovani*

"Again," I demanded.

I sat at my desk, my hand around an empty glass as I stared intently at the screen of the laptop in front of me. The surveillance video was taken straight off the camera of one of our best shipping containers. Gabriele sighed from the other side of my desk. "Haven't you seen it enough? You've probably memorized the whole thing by now."

"No, I haven't," I snapped.

The rage that was boiling under my skin only increased with every viewing of the surveillance video, but I couldn't stop until I found every detail that would help me to catch these bastards.

"You saw the facility yourself," Gabriele protested. "And you've seen the video enough times that there's nothing else to see. Stop torturing yourself."

I knew he was right. This morning had been a whirlwind of chaos as I had been informed of the attack on one of our warehouses-our most profitable one, too.

But at this point, I didn't give a damn.

I pinned him with a stern glare. "Again," I said slowly.

He sighed, shaking his head in disappointment, but reluctantly, he pressed the spacebar on the laptop, playing the video once more.

I watched intently, even though I had seen it nearly a dozen times before.

Unknowing workers carried boxes and luggage into the warehouse, just going about their job. Just as the last truck of the morning rolled in, and half a dozen men opened it up to transport the goods, a black SUV rolled into the frame.

It was going beyond the speed limit, especially for an unloading area, and four more SUVS came in after it. They surrounded the truck and the building. It was easy to tell they meant no good.

No license plates, headlights off-this was a surprise attack.

The vehicles opened up, and men in black tactical gear poured out from the SUVs, their automatic weapons pointed at the workers.

One of our men drew his handgun in defense, but it was too late. The shots were quick, and our man fell to the ground easily.

The other five were shot as well. Even though the video was silent, it was like I could hear the echo of the shots, the bang, bang, bang of their AK-47s driving into our men.

Half of the unknown men stormed into the facility, and smoke filled every crevice of the warehouse. I was sure there had been screaming that wasn't picked up by the camera.

The other half grabbed whatever they could from the truck, piling it into the SUV with extreme precision. They weren't just mafia; they were trained professionals, and they knew exactly what they were doing-ruthless and efficient like soldiers. Our men put up a fight though, and I watched as several of the men in tactical gear went down. Others were wounded, but it wasn't enough.

I watched angrily as our men evacuated as quickly as possible, as they had been commanded to do. Those who were injured or dead were left behind in the chaos.

The Russian bastards had won. They stepped over their comrades' dead bodies carelessly, not giving a shit for even one of their own.

Once the smoke cleared, at least ten men were dead, four of our own and five on their side. But I knew the video had one more detail to give us... one last clue to share.

The door of the first SUV opened, and a man in a sleek black suit stepped out. Unlike all the others, his face wasn't covered, like he wanted to be seen.

He stood in the aftermath of the gunfight, looking very much like he didn't belong there. I stiffened when he kicked the limp body of one of our workers. They moved slightly, still alive, and I clenched my jaw.

The man in the video glanced up directly at the camera before pulling out a handgun from his side. Without breaking eye contact with the camera, he smirked and shot the injured man at his feet.

I paused the feed there, staring at the man's face. He stared back at me, taunting me, challenging me. Come replace me and kill me, he seemed to say with how blatant his actions were.

Even just standing there, he was open and relaxed, like he didn't care in the slightest what happened to himself or anyone around him.

The fucking bastards killed five of my men and stole hundreds of thousands of dollars in goods. And they got away with it like it was easy.

Seeing it through the screen made it surreal, like I was watching a movie or a documentary where you knew they were real people, but couldn't emulate the empathy.

The bullet casings on the ground, the blood-soaked floors, and splatters around the walls... the unseeing eyes of the dead you couldn't save-it was a horrific scene to witness in person, and it never got any easier, especially when you knew the faces of the slain.

"Do you recognize him?" I asked for the tenth time.

"For the last time, no, Gio." Gabriele sighed. "I've never seen him before, and neither has anyone I've shown it to."

"We should've seen it coming," I growled, slamming my fist onto the desk.

"How could we?" Gabriele scoffed. "They've been quiet ever since we got Dahlia back. They didn't even reclaim the bodies of their members that we set out to lure them. How could we know they were going to attack?"

"Six hundred thousand in goods stolen," I said quietly. "Five good men killed, just like that. It was our responsibility to keep them safe and we fucking failed, Gabriele. We failed!"

"I get it!" Gabriele got to his feet, glaring at me. "But beating ourselves up about it isn't going to do anything but make you and me miserable. We have to figure out what we're going to do from here."

Gabriele shut the laptop in front of me, a rare stern look in his eyes as he glared at me. There were very few things Gabriele was willing to argue with me about, but this was one of them. Grinding my teeth together, I released my breath. I tried my best to relax my body, allowing the anger to seep out. He was right. We needed a rational head right now, not one full of vengeance.

"Make sure the families of those men are well taken care of," I told him. "And pay for their funerals. Anything their family wants, get it done."

"Understood," Gabriele nodded as he straightened, crossing his arms. "But what about Lain?"

I stiffened at the reminder. I knew what he was inferring. Lain had only been eighteen, just a fucking kid when we'd recruited him from the streets. He was high-strung and energetic, and he practically worshipped at my feet whenever I went to visit the warehouse.

He was the kind of kid who would fight any battle with his bare hands if we asked him to.

And he got a bullet in the head for it.

"No family? Even distant?" I asked, solemnly.

"None," Gabriele sighed. "We were his famiglia, Gio. You know that better than anyone."

I shut my eyes tightly, sighing as I held my head in my hands. Every moment felt heavy as the guilt and grief over losing such a young, bright man hit me hard-the image of his eyes beaming at me whenever we met, begging to be acknowledged. He had smiled when I remembered his name, and now he was fucking dead.

"He's famiglia," I decided finally, my eyes red as I struggled not to cry at the loss. "Have him buried in Eterna, the best of the best."

Eterna, our private cemetery, was dedicated to the family. It was sparsely used, but anyone who died in the line of duty could request to be buried there. It was rare to have it done as usually the family of the deceased would take the body, but it happened occasionally.

Lain would have his spot there. I would make sure of it.

"I'll have Manuel send up some options so we can plan for the lot to bury him in. We'll make sure he's taken care of," Gabriele said, reaching over to grab my shoulder.

He squeezed it, knowing how much Lain's loss had hurt, not just for me but for the entire organization.

"Okay."

I nodded and opened the laptop back up. It lit up, showcasing the face of the intruder we had yet to identify, "Otherwise, focus our search on replaceing this man. He is probably important, at least a higher-up, if not one of the leaders. If we replace him, we'll replace them all."

"I'll do some research into that bastard," Gabriele said seriously. "I'll pass around the photo we have; it's a bit grainy but it should do. Maybe we'll get lucky and get some hits."

"Good." I nodded. "In the meantime, have someone track the goods. They'll probably try to sell them on the black market, so we might not get a lead there, but it's possible somebody will slip." "Which markets?" Gabriele frowned.

"Italy, Russia, all of Europe if we have to... anywhere they could reasonably try to ship it within a few days. We had trackers on those goods. See if you can get a location before they disable them, if they haven't been already." Gabriele smirked. "Consider it done."

I stared at my desk in thought. I couldn't turn back time. I couldn't stop my men from dying or the goods from being stolen. We'd taken a huge hit on this attack, but we'd dealt with worse before.

This was not the time to place blame or point fingers; it was the time to fix this mess.

With a calmer head, I realized what a jackass I'd been, not only to Gabriele but to Olivia. I didn't even remember what I'd said I was so lost in my anger, but I knew it had hurt her.

The way she had looked at me after I'd snapped at her, I wanted to apologize right then and there, but my torn pride had seemed more important at the time. Who knows if she'd forgive me for what I said, for how I treated her? I was not looking forward to that apology.

Before we could make any more decisions, the door slammed into the wall hard enough to scratch the wood finishings. The last person I wanted to see walked through the door.

Alessandro stood there, fuming. If this was a cartoon, there's be steam pouring out of his ears, but luckily for me, this was real life. He stormed in and Gabriele rolled his eyes, already backing away to shut the door behind him. Alessandro slammed his palm onto the laptop. It shut harshly and I stared at the raging teenager before me.

"What the fuck is this?" he growled.