Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
I glance at him in surprise.
"I have Mattia," he says with a shrug. "You're a phone call away. Get her out of this world. She's been in it long enough."
"And Amalia hasn't?"
He smiles softly. "Amalia knows where she belongs."
I'm not sure what the fuck that means. I'm not sure I want to know. My brother's regina is a fierce woman, exactly what he needs to keep him busy.
Mattia exits the deli, signaling the all clear. Rafe and I exchange a glance and then climb out of the Bentayga.
"He's inside," Mattia mutters. "Enzo is with him."
"Not Marcello?" I ask. Enzo Gianni is one of their captains, a second or third cousin to Emilio. He's third in command after Marcello, definitely not the one who should be here now.
Mattia shakes his head.
Rafe and I exchange a glance. Why isn't Marcello here? Is there division in the ranks, or is this some sort of setup? Either one is equally possible at this point.
"Find Marcello," I mutter to Mattia. "I want to know where the fuck he is and why he isn't here."
"Will do," Mattia says.
I spear a look at Antonio. "You call Alessio. Make sure he knows that Marcello isn't here and to keep his eyes peeled."
Antonio nods.
"Leave a gun on the bench while Enzo pats me down." I glance at Rafe. "You distract Emilio so he doesn't see him leaving it."
"You think it's a setup," Rafe says.
"You don't? Marcello isn't here for a reason. I'm guessing Callandria is the reason. They're going after her," I growl, my temper rising. Emilio Genovese better pray to God I'm wrong. Not even heaven itself will keep her from me. Her father and brother certainly won't. She's mine.
"Slip him the gun," Rafe says to Antonio. "Cazzo, Luca. Just don't fucking kill him."
I make no promises.
Rafe curses again and pulls the door open. A blast of air hits me in the face, carrying the stench of stale cigar smoke. Cristo. I don't know why they insist on smoking the damn things. The inside of the deli is dimly lit, the blinds drawn. The place no longer functions, though it has all the trappings, down to fresh ingredients in the kitchen. La Cosa Nostra is good at keeping up appearances.
Emilio and Enzo stand in the center of the room, dressed in matching dark blue suits. Emilio turns in our direction, casting a cold, contemptuous look over us. Unlike his daughter, there's no fire in his eyes, only coldness. He's a giant of a man, as thick as he is tall. A glimpse of who Marcello will be twenty-five years from now, perhaps.
Enzo is a handsome bastard, rising through the ranks only because Genovese blood runs through his veins and he has no conscience. He kills with no remorse, steals with no regret. He's a soulless sycophant.
"Valentino," Emilio says, inclining his head to Rafe in the barest show of respect. His gaze flicks to me. "Luca."
"Genovese," Rafe says, his voice cold. "Enzo." He casts a glance over his shoulder at Mattia. "Search him."
Emilio grunts but doesn't object as Mattia steps forward. He pats Emilio down carefully, checking him for weapons. Once he's satisfied, he steps back, nodding to Rafe.
"Let's get on with it then," Rafe says.
"Not so fast. Not until Enzo searches the two of you."
Rafe rolls his eyes. "We don't make a habit of violating our oaths, Genovese. But since you insist." He steps forward impatiently, his arms spread.
Antonio shifts toward the bench beside me, moving casually.
Enzo quickly pats Rafe down, finding nothing.
"Your turn," Emilio spits at me.
I resist the urge to plant my fist in his face and step forward, moving to block Antonio from view.
Enzo grabs my arms, carefully feeling for a weapon. He's thorough, I'll give him that.
"Was Marcello too busy to join us, Genovese?" Rafe asks, stepping in front of Emilio to distract him. "Isn't he your second-in-command, or did I miss some memo?"
"You missed nothing, Valentino. My son had other matters to attend to today."
"Nothing pressing, I hope."
"It was a family matter," Emilio lies. "I'm sure you understand how important those can be."
"Of course," Rafe says, his voice flat.
Enzo elbows me in the dick, intentionally, I'm sure.
"Stronzo," I mutter.
He grabs my balls.
"Those are my balls," I growl. "Would you like me to drop my pants so you can see what a real pair looks like, or are you done grabbing on them now?"
His expression sours, hatred flashing in his eyes, but he releases my dick and quickly pats down my legs before rising to his feet again.
"They're clean," he mutters.
"Satisfied?" Rafe asks Emilio, who nods. "Good. Enzo, Antonio, get the fuck out."
I quickly slide onto the bench, feeling for the weapon Antonio left for me. My hand closes over it. I tuck it under my jacket, hiding it from view. If Emilio tries anything, we'll be ready.