By Blade, I Protect (By Blade #1)

Wolfe

I drove through the quiet streets of Palermo sometime between two and three in the morning, dried blood still on my hands because I hadn’t had time to scrub it off. I turned down a side street and then another, pulling up to the large wall with a black gate.

A small slab of steel slid open to reveal a pair of dark eyes. They looked at me for a millisecond before it quickly shut again.

“You know it’s me, asshole.”

The large gate opened inward, and I drove into the open courtyard where other cars and motorbikes were parked. I left the car there and hopped out.

Matteo, the guy who checked the peephole, walked up to me with a cigar in his mouth. His eyes were on my hands, which were still covered in blood. He wordlessly reached into his back pocket and grabbed a cloth, tossing it at me. “It went alright?”

I caught it then grabbed a bottle of whiskey from one of the nearby crates and poured it over my hands before I started to scrub my skin. “It always goes alright.”

“You sure about that?”

I swiped the cloth underneath my fingernails to catch the drops that had spread. “It’s not my blood, is it?” When my hands were clean, I tossed the cloth back at his chest, and he caught it.

“Don Russo is waiting for you inside.”

I headed to the double doors, flanked by several guards, and then entered the three-story villa hidden in plain sight in this coastal city of Sicily.

I exchanged head tilts with some of the men as I headed to Don Russo’s office on the second floor.

I had to cross the seven-thousand-square-foot villa, make my way up a marble staircase, and then I ended up in his office.

The other guys were already there, Uncle Marco and Costa, and a few of the others.

Don Russo was in the middle of a heated conversation with Uncle Marco, but he dropped the discussion the second I stepped inside. “You handled Raphael?”

“Yep.” My knuckles were bruised, and the barrel of my gun was empty.

Don Russo took my word for it and moved on.

“It’s come to my attention that Celso is making a lot of money.

Hand-over-fist kind of money. The Polizia look the other way without a bribe, so that’s even more money in their pockets.

” He leaned against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest. “I think it’s time we get in on the action.

You know…” He cocked his head to one side and then to the other.

“Get in on the action.” He wore gray slacks and a button-up, collared white shirt, dressed for business meetings with suits rather than the streets.

He was about to leave his fifties and step into his sixties, but he was still sharp as a tack.

“What kind of action are we talking about, Don?” I was the only one brave enough to ask, or they all already knew the plan.

“Prostitution,” he said, his dark Italian eyes on me.

“Prostitution?” I asked blankly. “We’re American pimps now?”

“We would hand the specifics to a different crew so we can keep our focus on our existing accounts,” Don Russo said with patience. “It won’t interfere with our normal affairs.”

I thought it was beneath us, but I knew I shouldn’t resist him too much in front of the others. Could give him an earful when it was just the two of us with a couple glasses of wine—or preferably whiskey.

When I had nothing else to say, Don Russo turned his attention to Uncle Marco. “We get the girls from Armando from the mainland. We can get them to the docks and bypass customs, as with everything else.”

My eyebrows immediately furrowed in confusion. “Get the girls from Armando?”

Uncle Marco took over. “We purchased them from the Skull King. Wasn’t cheap, but they’re broken in, so there won’t be much resistance.”

Now my eyes flicked from Don Russo to Uncle Marco and then back again.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed, maybe a few seconds, but the shock made it feel like minutes.

I wasn’t shocked or disturbed by much, but this was despicable.

“You’re serious right now?” My eyes were on Don Russo, the man responsible for every decision made by Cosa Nostra.

“We’re traffickers now? That’s not who we are. ”

Uncle Marco shook his head slightly so I would quiet down.

I ignored him. “That’s not who we are.” I focused on Don Russo. “I’m not saying we’re saints by any means, but we stick to our side of the street and let everyone else pass without interference. We may be criminals, but we’re decent ones. When did that change?”

“Wolfe—”

My eyes flicked back to Uncle Marco. “Does it look like I’m speaking to you?” I snapped.

Uncle Marco stared me down like he wanted to slice a knife down my cheek.

I looked at Don Russo again. “I know the tariffs have been a bitch, but this is not the way.”

Don Russo continued to stare at me, his thoughts impossible to gauge in that hard face.

“Trafficking women and lining our pockets from their labor is inhumane,” I said. “I’d rather take a pay cut than resort to that.”

“Wolfe.” Uncle Marco raised his voice. “Shut your goddamn mouth—”

“Leave us,” Don Russo said calmly.

Uncle Marco stared me down again, like there was so much he wanted to say but couldn’t. It was silent as everyone in the room paused, letting Don Russo’s orders fill every corner before they were obeyed.

They all filed out, their footsteps distinct against the tile floor. They shuffled out, and then the double doors closed.

Don Russo continued to lean against the desk, standing in his grand office with a desk he seemed to never use.

His private patio had a sea view. Only the people closest to him got to enjoy it over a round of cigars—and I was one of those people.

I busted my ass for Cosa Nostra because I was born in a life of crime, and I was bred for it.

Don Russo pushed off the desk then slowly walked up to me, his arms still crossed, his beard thick along his jawline.

His dark eyes landed on my face and stayed there for a long time, giving that stare like he could see right through me.

“Wolfe, I understand your reservations. But as I said just a few moments ago, it will be a separate crew. You’ll be excused from any responsibility. ”

“And that makes it better?” I asked incredulously.

“You expect me to just look the other way and pretend it’s not happening?

That my paycheck doesn’t come at the price of a woman who just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time?

Call me old-fashioned, but I like to pay for a woman who wants to fuck me with cash—not because she’s being forced to. ”

“I’ll make sure you don’t receive any compensation from that side of the business—”

“We’re better than this, Don Russo,” I said.

“You want to bring that shit to Sicily? That’s not organized prostitution—that’s rape.

You think our business partners and acquaintances or even our enemies will respect us for that?

I’d rather sell my house and drive a cheap car than lose the respect of everyone around me. ”

“They don’t need to know.”

I released a frustrated laugh. “When have you ever buried a secret that didn’t pop up with the winter weeds?”

The man didn’t need to blink as he stared at me. “Wolfe, when you take over, you can do whatever you please.”

“What makes you think I’d want to take over an organization I don’t respect?”

His eyes hardened slightly at the insult, though the rest of his face remained neutral. But there was a stretch of silence so heavy it was almost suffocating. “I see that you’re angry right now.”

“No shit—”

“My empathy has its limits, Wolfe.” He raised his voice but only slightly, a quiet warning. “When you’re in charge, you have to think about the entire pack, not just a few wolves. I haven’t shared with you the full extent of our economic woes, but the tariffs aren’t the only issue we face.”

“Then share them with me, and we can forge a plan.”

He turned around and slowly walked back to the desk, leaning up against it once more.

“The Romanos are making moves in Catania. My sources tell me they’re forging an alliance with the Skull King.

Doesn’t make sense to do that, so they must be getting something out of it.

On top of that, they’re replacing the customs officers with their own police operatives, intimidating our partnerships to secure their exclusivity, and so many other things. ”

I wasn’t reactive—only proactive. Don Russo had a different philosophy, and that was exactly why we were in this mess.

He chose to observe from a distance until the problem came to fruition.

Whereas I liked to kill an insidious hatchling before it opened its wings for the first time. “Abandon this pursuit, or I’m gone.”

“You know that’s not how this works. You made a vow—”

“I vowed to serve Cosa Nostra with my blood, sweat, and tears.” My hand made a fist, and I placed it over my chest. “To remain loyal under pain of torture, to bury our secrets in graves no one will ever find, to serve my men like brothers and cousins distantly related in a family tree. I’ve done those things. But now you’ve changed the rules.”

He continued his hard stare.

“If you do this, I walk. And I know how fucking valuable I am. I know I’m the guy you can’t afford to lose.” I got into his face, just inches away from him. “So you better think about this really long and really fucking hard.”