Wolfe
Salvatore left the main road off the coastline near Palermo and headed inland to the outskirts of Caltanissetta, one of the cities in the center of Sicily. “You should know that Don Mancini had to be talked into this.”
“Thanks for going to bat for me.”
“And he probably won’t like you, no matter what you do or say.”
“No surprise there.”
Salvatore made a few more turns before he left the asphalt roads and the tires hit dirt. We were officially in wine country, Mount Etna miles away on the coast. It wasn’t smoking today, so that was a good sign.
At a high elevation, the sea was visible far into the distance. It was a clear day, not a cloud in the sky, and the hint of summer was on the horizon.
“You aren’t packing, right?”
“Nah. I don’t need a gun.”
Salvatore turned to look at me as he slowed the car over the dirt road. “You know the Mancinis and the rest of the syndicate don’t like Cosa Nostra, right?”
I grinned. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“Well, you were one of them up until a few days ago, so they might shoot you when you walk in.”
“Eh, I’m not worried about it.” I looked out the windshield again.
“Are you ever worried about anything?”
I rolled down the passenger window and rested my arm on the windowsill, smelling the vines and the dirt that was kicked up in the air. “Not really.” Tom Ford sunglasses sat on the bridge of my nose, and I stared at the landscape as we approached the main gate to the vineyard.
The large iron door had Mancini Vineyards written across the center, the stone walls on either side stretching far into the distance and curving around the property.
I knew the Mancinis hid their criminal operations through their wine and olive oil distribution, but I knew nothing about their property or their private lives.
Salvatore honked his horn before he rolled down the window. “Gonna leave me sitting out here all day?”
I heard an audible click, and then the enormous gate swung inward, slowly revealing a three-story villa and its neighboring structures, the gardens, the winery, a beautiful property worth millions if it ever hit the market.
And there were armed men everywhere.
Some appeared to be vineyard workers, based on their attire, but a lot of them seemed to be skulking around with guns on their hips. When I looked at the gate, I saw the guys around it carrying automatic rifles, as if someone was going to pull up at any moment for a shootout.
Salvatore followed one of the dirt roads and left the villa in the rearview. It seemed to be an official parking lot out of sight of the stone buildings, so no one would have to look at the sea of cars of the workers.
Salvatore parked, and dust continued to drift into the air from the tires. “Ready for this?”
“Are you? You’re the one who’s got his panties in a bunch.”
He gave me a cold look before he started to get out of the car. “You know what? I hope Don Mancini shoots your ass.”
I got out and shut the door before I started to walk with him. “I haven’t been shot in the ass before. First time for everything, right?”
Salvatore rolled his eyes as he continued forward, emerging between two of the buildings before he came to the main road with the villa nearby.
The gate was already closed, and he guided me toward the front doors that were located away from the parking area.
“Something you should know…” He stopped and turned to me, getting close like he didn’t want anyone to hear.
Lots of the men were staring at us like they all knew I didn’t belong there, but they were definitely out of earshot.
“Whatever you do, do not stare at Frankie.”
“Who the fuck is Frankie?” Had his face been mauled by a spray of bullets?
“His daughter,” he said. “And she’s quite the looker. But if you stare for a second too long, you’ll absolutely get shot. Don Mancini is a pretty reasonable guy, but Frankie is one of his triggers, so don’t fuck with it.”
Beautiful women were as common in Sicily as wine, so I wasn’t easily impressed. “I’ll try,” I said with a voice full of sarcasm.
Salvatore stared at me for a second longer, like he wanted me to take him seriously, but decided not to waste his time. “Come on. Let’s go.” He took the lead and approached the front of the villa while I trailed behind.
It was a beautiful property, a palace in the middle of endless vineyards and olive trees, a slice of paradise in a sea of heaven.
Terra-cotta pots held olive trees and colorful flowers, and there was beautiful Sicilian tile up the stairs and around the patio.
I started up the stairs, and the large patio with strings of lights came into sight, an infinity pool behind it with a prime view of the vineyards in the distance.
Salvatore stopped in front of the doors and talked to some of the men stationed there. “Let Don Mancini know we’re here to see him.”
One of the guys nodded and headed inside.
I leaned against the rail and continued to look over the patio, my eye catching on a woman who left the back door and crossed the patio to one of the men who stood there with a cigar in his mouth. She held a white envelope in her hand, and when she reached him, she tapped it against his chest.
He took the envelope, peeked inside, and then slid it inside his jacket pocket.
“Wolfe.”
The woman had thick, dark hair like a traditional Italian woman.
There was so much of it around her shoulders and down her back, straight and shiny, and it looked like it would feel like silk against my fingertips.
She was in a Sicilian blue dress that was cinched tightly around her waist below her tits, having a petite waistline and a grown woman’s rack.
A gold bracelet sat on her slender wrist, and she wore flat sandals.
Even though she skipped the heels, it was obvious she had long and slender legs.
She was petite but also tall, at least for a woman.
I hadn’t seen her face yet, but she had this presence to her, as if she could command a room just like a man.
She continued to speak to the guy, who had to be decades older than her, but the sun seemed to bother her eyes because she pivoted her body in my direction to avoid the brightness.
A slender neckline led to a distinct but soft jawline and full lips.
Really full lips, the kind that were perfect for all sorts of fun things…
like kissing and sucking and fucking. Beautiful cheeks and tanned skin led to eyes that literally sparkled, even with the sun behind her.
Emerald green with the quality of a flawless gemstone, they were dark with the mascara she wore, but they possessed authority… and intelligence…and a hint of sass.
“Wolfe.”
My eyes flicked to Salvatore when I noticed him walking down the stairs toward me.
He got in my face, one hand on the rail. “What the fuck did I just say?” He lowered his voice so only I could hear.
My eyes flicked to her and then back to him. “That’s her?”
“Yes.”
I gave a quiet chuckle and tried not to look at her.
“Christ, you weren’t exaggerating for once.
” I was tempted to look at her again, but if I stared too long, my dick would get hard, and that was the last thing I wanted right now.
“At least she won’t be in the meeting. That’d be one hell of a distraction. ”
“She probably will be there.”
“What? Why?”
“She’s part of the crew.”
An instantaneous attraction turned into an obsession with the snap of a finger.
I hadn’t been within five feet of her, hadn’t heard a single word out of her mouth, but damn, I was hooked.
I looked at her again, seeing her standing with confidence, like a woman who knew exactly how powerful she was, and then a slow grin stretched across my mouth. “Is she seeing anyone?”
Salvatore turned red in the face like he wanted to put a bullet between my eyes. Then he turned and walked back up the stairs, huffing and puffing. “You’re fucking unbelievable, you know that?”