17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
CRUE
W hat are we doing here?
“They called. I came.”
After you made them look like a gaggle of cocks.
“Geese.” It’s a flock or brood of chickens. Gaggle sounds better, though. Especially in the context.
She’s going to get you killed.
Probably, but for the first time in my life, I’m doing something for the benefit of someone else. I’m reluctant to say that I feel an emotional involvement, beyond the blinding rage that usually dictates my emotional responses.
Wanting to help Fiametta feels... well, good. Dangerously so. I feel as if I have the strength to move mountains, anything, as long as it brings a smile to her face again. Dark and heavy is more my style than hers. She’s best served by descriptions such as bubbly, giddy and adorable.
Shut the fuck up. If I had guts, I’d be spewing them over the carpet.
I still my mind, not because of my shadow, but because I’ve arrived at the door to Lorenzo Napoli’s office. A few days ago, it was his place of death, and now it’s inhabited by a man who must die and two others I can’t trust anymore.
Even Mark has let me down. My oldest friend. My brother. He’s siding with the devils who torment my Little Flame, and for that he has to suffer the same fate.
I stop and listen for a moment. I tune all of my senses on the door, trying to catch anything that is being said behind it. But there’s nothing. Only a hollow thrum, akin to pressing your ear to a seashell.
Well, here goes nothing.
I don’t knock before entering. Matteo’s sitting behind the desk in Lorenzo’s old seat — though, I’m sure it’s not the same one he was shot in. Mark’s standing in the far-right hand corner of the room, next to a long, short display shelf. Scatterings of Lorenzo’s personal belongings are on top, with books stacked below. He’s holding a copy of one, thumbing through the pages and pretending to read. Tomas is sitting in front of Matteo, lazily slurping on a glass of whiskey.
It's clean in here. There is no sign that a man was shot and killed here so recently, if at all. There isn’t a drop of blood on any of the carpets. From my experience, no matter how damned good you are, it’s impossible to clean every last drop. Some tiny splash always manages to get left behind. It could be a stained shirt cuff or tiny drop on a wall that most people would confuse with a fleck of dirt.
But this office is pure. Spotless. It was probably torn down and rebuilt, to resemble the room it once was. It’s a pity I have to kill them. I could use the number of whoever did this meticulous clean.
All three turn to face me as I enter.
“You look surprised, Crue. Why is that?” Matteo asks.
I close the door behind me but don’t travel too far into the room. “I’m wondering why you’re in Tomas’s seat.” It’s a joke. It’s also the truth and I am trying to stir the pot. It’s all right and all wrong.
“Oh, Tomas knows the deal. You don’t have to worry about him trying to do a repeat of Lorenzo,” Matteo scoffs.
Sure. But Tomas needs to worry about me.
“You called and I came. Why am I here?” I’ve never shown any of these men fear, and I’m not going to start now, just because they might be coming for my head. World-weary and cautious has been my attitude until now, but even that facade is a waste of energy. I’ve made up my mind and it’s time to stand strong.
“I don’t think I put my point across well at the funeral.” Matteo turns to Mark. They don’t do their eyebrow wiggling telepathy this time. “You don’t have to be on guard here, Crue. It’s a safe space. You can sit, drink and be merry. We’re all friends here.”
“I’ll stand.”
“Suit yourself,” Matteo rolls his eyes and leans back in the chair. “There’s no carrot and there’s no stick, Crue. It’s what I tried to tell you earlier, and I’m repeating it now. We are square. You can stay or you can go. But what you won’t do is get in the way of my business.”
“Or else?” I finish what he doesn’t want to say. “That sounds like a pretty big stick to me.”
“As much as it stings, buddy, Tomas lives.” It’s Mark’s turn to speak, and also confirmation of his choosing them over me.
So be it.
“Why?” I’m focused on Matteo. He’s the shot caller. The others are of little value.
“I told you. One boss is worse than two—”
“Yeah, yeah, we don’t have to go into that again. But why him? I’m sure there are tons of weasel-faced fucks in the Napoli family, who would froth at the mouth for this opportunity. Lemme have him, and I’ll walk away peacefully.” I can’t deal with another monologue from Matteo.
I get it. His masterplan has come to fruition. However, Matteo isn’t an evil genius trying to rule the world, and I’m not a superhero caught in his net. We’re men. Ambitious and like-minded, to some degree. If he gives me what I want, I will walk away. Fiametta doesn’t need to know about Matteo and Mark’s involvement, and we can get away from all of the shit of that world.
If he doesn’t give me what I want, I’ll have to take it. And I can’t see that option working out for anyone in this room, including myself.
“For fuck’s sake, man, I’m right here.” Tomas stares at me with his beady eyes, a frown on his thin face.
“So?”
“Listen, Crue... brother ,” Mark tries to drag my attention away from the intense showdown Matteo and I are having with our eyes. But like every poor sod who falls into this staring contest of supremacy, he’s going to lose. They always do.
“Take the girl and get the fuck out of here, if you aren’t willing to hear Matteo out,” he advises.
“Take the what ?” Tomas shouts across the room.
The corner of my lip ticks up at his outburst, which inspires the same reaction from Matteo.
“Didn’t you tell him?”
Matteo shakes his head. “He’s a big boy. He’ll get over it.”
“This isn’t what we agreed,” Tomas snarls at Matteo. He leans over the table, bringing face right up to the one true Don and adds. “I did what you wanted, and I’m taking that bitch. I will break her in. And then, maybe this prick can have my sloppy seconds.”
Without breaking eye contact with me, Matteo strikes Tomas’s cheek with a flat palm. It’s thunderous and drives the old second-in-charge back into his chair, dazed and confused.
“You are behaving like a fucking child, Tomas. This is a man’s world, and you’re not going to sully it with little tantrums.” Matteo wipes his palm down the front of his jacket.
“Chilling,” I say dryly.
“To the bone,” Mark adds, as if we’re riffing off one another like the good old days.
“See, this is why I like you two. You’re fearless, even when you should be shitting your pants. Do you know how unstoppable the four of us would be together?”
I’ve weighed up the odds, and just the three of them are going to be one hell of a molehill to climb.
“Join us, Crue. You’re above the tedium and bullshit of our political games,” Matteo gestures between himself and Tomas. “And you and Mark have so much on offer, I’d give you just about anything to have you both with me.”
“Him.” I point at Tomas.
“Apart from that,” Matteo scoffs. At least he’s taking it with good humor.
“Come now, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. We’re offering you the girl, and Tomas here agrees.” Matteo pauses, and gestures with a flat palm in Tomas’s direction. “Don’t you?”
“I do,” he chokes on an inhale and coughs it up.
“Stay with her here, take her and go, it doesn’t matter to me. But you will cease this pointless bloodlust.”
“What have you done to get him wrapped so tightly around your finger?” I tip my neck to the side, searching Matteo’s face for an answer I know it won’t give away.
“I gave him everything,” Matteo grins. Can the same be said for Mark? I thought he was like me that he wanted for nothing and made his own enjoyment. Yet here he stands, siding with my enemy. “And I’ll do the same for you.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re going to all this effort. I can’t be that valuable.” It’s not a pity play. I really don’t understand what he sees in me. I haven’t, since the day we met, but I took his money anyway.
If I’m going down swinging, it would be nice to know.
“But you are, and that’s all I’ll say on it.” Fucker . He won’t even give me the satisfaction of a simple answer.
“I’ll need time to think about it,” I say. I’ll never accept, but I’m not foolish enough to say that outright.
No won’t mean walking away freely with Fiametta. No will mean a bullet to the back of my head when I least expect it. And I rather like my head these days, shadow and all.
“Of course. I wouldn’t expect you to make a snap decision. In fact, I’d have found it suspicious if you didn’t take time to think about it.” Matteo kicks his feet onto Lorenzo’s desk and gets comfortable. “But Fiametta’s not going anywhere until I know where you stand, Crue.”
“Ah, so the shit thickens. What happened to ‘you can walk away’?”
“Don’t make me slap you like I did him.” Wheezy laughter follows his words. “If you walked out that door with her right now, what’s to stop you from coming back tomorrow and killing Tomas anyway? Or sneaking into my room and poking me with that needle of yours?” He doesn’t include Mark in his fears, believing we’re still the best of buddies.
I don’t think I can use what he says, but it’s worth noting.
“Nothing. I suppose it makes sense.” I start walking backward to the door. Taking my eye off them would be a foolish gamble and one I won’t risk.
“Then take your time or hurry up. The choice is yours,” he says. I’m sure I’ve heard that somewhere before. “But I won’t wait forever, Crue. And I’d prefer not having to hunt you down.”
I make my exit, only breaking eye contact with Matteo Baronne when the door cuts our line of sight. As much as I want to escape from this place, I know I can’t. I have to see her again. I have to know she’s safe.
It’s gonna be bad, huh?
“Terrible,” I answer my shadow, as the weight of the world descends upon my shoulders, crushing me until I can barely breathe.