WOLFE
I was in the back seat of the SUV. Two guys were in the front, and Andre was in the right seat beside me. We were in the lead, while Don Mancini, Leo, and Elio were in the next vehicle, and then there was another vehicle behind that.
They put me in the front just in case they sprayed us with bullets when we got there.
It was fine, no hard feelings.
My phone vibrated with a text, so I pulled it out of my front pocket and glanced at the screen.
It was Francesca. Please be careful.
I grinned from ear to ear. Aw, my baby’s worried about me. Who’s obsessed with whom now?
I’m serious, Wolfe.
Don’t ever worry about me. It’s my job to worry about you.
Your arrogance is what I worry about.
It’ll be alright, baby. You know how many times I’ve been shot?
Cristo…
I’ll tell you when this is done.
Please text me the second you’re on your way home.
I was about to step into a den of vipers, but I was sitting in the back seat grinning like an idiot.
I promise, baby. We’re about to pull up, so I need to go radio silent now.
See you soon. I shoved my phone into my front pocket without waiting for her to text back, knowing it was time to put my game face on.
Andre stared at me with bullets in his eyes. “What the fuck are you smiling about?”
I changed Francesca’s name in my phone to Baby, so if anyone saw my texts on my phone, they wouldn’t know it was my boss’s daughter. “It was my girl.”
“You got a girl?”
“Yep. And she’s fiiiine.” I looked forward again. A black gate opened for us, and we approached a small two-story warehouse near the docks. It was quiet out because it was three in the morning. Everyone fast asleep on a weekday evening.
Our SUV came to a stop, and I hopped out, seeing the guards with their rifles stare us down like this was already hostile. They maintained their stance by the double doors that led to the meeting inside with Lombardi and his cronies.
The drivers stayed in the vehicles, having rifles if we needed cover.
I walked up first. “Evening, boys. Or, should I say, morning?”
They didn’t say a word to me, and the first one patted me down to check for guns.
The other moved to Andre and did the same to him.
The guy who frisked me found the knife I kept tucked inside my boot. He took it and straightened, holding it in front of me before he clicked his tongue and shook his head.
“You said no guns.” I grabbed his wrist and twisted it quickly before I slammed my other hand down on his, hitting him so hard he dropped the knife.
With killer instincts, I reached out and grabbed it.
“But nothing about knives.” I turned the handle back and forth so the blade would catch the light before I tucked it back into my boot.
The guy lifted his rifle and pointed the barrel straight at my chest and put his finger to the trigger.
“Ooh, big man with a big gun.” I stepped forward, pushing my body into the barrel as I drove him back. “Gonna blow this whole deal for your boss because his little boy never learned how to play with guns?”
His ferocity wavered when I mocked him, the pressure against my chest decreasing as he pulled the rifle away slightly.
I gave the rifle a hard shove. “Get that shit outta my face.” Then I spat on him. “Figgh’i buttana.”
His comrade put a hand to his shoulder and stopped him from escalating it.
Don Mancini and everyone else had checked in during our altercation, so we were permitted to enter the warehouse, a single long table in the center of the cavernous room, Lombardi and his cronies already seated, waiting for us.
I looked at the large wooden crates stacked up against the wall and looked for the one with the streak of red paint down the side.
Don Mancini took the lead and approached the table. “Luigi.”
“Vincenzo, have a seat.”
Don Mancini pulled out the chair in the center and sat down. Elio took the seat beside him and Leo on the other side.
I lingered in the back with Andre and Nicola, bodyguards without guns. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at the open gallery upstairs, a walkway with doors that led to another part of the building, a perfect angle to shoot all of us like fish in a barrel.
The men had a long and obnoxious stare-down like American wrestlers on TV.
Vincenzo drummed his fingertips on the top of the table, and it was so quiet that every tap sounded like a drum. “This is the part where you apologize then grovel and beg for forgiveness, and I mercifully consider it. But you’ve been silent far longer than I care for.”
Luigi Lombardi was older than Don Mancini, by at least ten years.
He brought his hands together and interlocked his fingers on the surface of the old wooden table.
“We’ve known each other a long time. You come from a good family, and you’re good people.
But let’s be honest, the world has evolved, and you’ve failed to evolve with it. ”
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Don Mancini asked.
I knew exactly what it meant—that he was too soft. That they didn’t admire that softness. That he wasn’t tough enough to be an ally in this brutal game.
“Vincenzo, let’s be real,” Lombardi said as he leaned forward. “The only reason you found those guns is because of that stray pit bull that wandered onto your property.” He glanced at me behind him before he looked at Don Mancini.
That was offensive to pit bulls—because they were a hell of a lot nicer than me.
“Not sure what you did to get him to join you, if I’m honest.”
I said nothing, knowing if I intervened, it would just make Don Mancini look weak.
But Vincenzo didn’t say anything, and since his back was to me, I didn’t have a clue what his face looked like.
I was sure he was pissed, though.
“Twenty years of friendship destroyed over money. That’s pathetic.” Vincenzo was the one to speak.
“If you were an equal partner, this relationship would progress rather than come to a halt,” Luigi said. “But this is how the world works, Vincenzo. The fittest survive.”
“You brought me all the way here to insult me?” Now, Don Mancini’s voice started to rise because his patience had officially expired.
“I brought you all the way here to make you an offer.”
I glanced at the men who flanked Luigi and glanced up at the gallery again, trying to determine exactly how this would play out when the conversation ended.
“An offer?” Don Mancini mocked. “Not sure what you can offer me at this point.”
“Let us absorb your business, your relationships, and your distribution partnerships, and we’ll let you continue your little winery like civilians.
” Luigi wore a beige blazer with large black buttons along the side.
An old-fashioned gold watch sat on his wrist, looking like it was several generations older than he was.
Wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t even work.
“We won’t part as friends, but we won’t part as enemies either. ”
“My little winery?” Don Mancini said quietly. “The little winery that’s been in my family for generations? It’s little to you?”
Luigi kept his hands together and didn’t move. “Don’t take this personally. I wouldn’t make you this generous offer if I didn’t still have affection for you—”
“You can take your affection and shove it up your ass, Luigi.” He slammed his hand down hard and jumped up out of his chair, pushing it back and making it tip over. “I’m happy to show you just how soft we are.”
Elio left his chair and shared a look with Don Mancini, a silent conversation passing between them.
Leo slammed his hand on the table like his father, but he took it a step further by spitting right in Luigi’s face.
I smirked.
One of Luigi’s men lunged across the table and grabbed Leo by the neckline then slammed him down on the wood.
Then guns were drawn, one pressed right to Leo’s temple. All the bodyguards carried pistols, and up above, men with automatic rifles appeared, aiming their barrels down at us like those fish in a barrel.
“How does that saying go?” I said when Don Mancini was close to me. “I told you so.”
Don Mancini looked like he wanted to kill me even more than the asshole who had his son by the shirt, his gun pressed into Leo’s temple. Don Mancini turned back to Luigi. “This is who you are? I’d rather be soft than dishonorable.”
“And I’d rather be alive than dead.”
The guy slammed Leo to the table again and dug the tip of his barrel into his head.
His son was about to get his brains shot out, but Vincenzo managed to keep his calm.
“I’ll give you one more chance,” Luigi said. “Yield—or your son’s brains will stain our clothes.”
“I’d rather fucking die,” Leo said as he remained pinned to the table.
The guy slammed his head down again.
I was starting to like Leo.
Luigi continued to look at Don. “Yield—or your legacy dies with him.”
I didn’t really like Don Mancini at all, but no sane father would let his son be killed over business.
A silent standoff ensued, the two men staring at each other. It seemed like an entire minute later when Don Mancini conceded. “Fine.”
The henchman pulled the gun from Leo’s head.
I stepped forward and grabbed Leo by the arm before I tugged him back behind me.
Luigi turned his attention to me, looking at me head on for the first time.
“I don’t appreciate the way you’ve spoken to my boss.”
Luigi shifted his gaze to Don Mancini. “I’ll shoot your dog—”
I slammed my fist hard on the table and made it shake. “I’m talking to you now.”
The guy pointed his gun at Leo again.
“Wolfe,” Elio said. “Stand down.”
“Asshole, I’m the one talking.” I slammed my fist into my chest. “So point that thing at me.”
He shifted the gun to the center of my chest.
I turned back to Luigi, leaning over him.
“This is how we’re going to play this. I’m giving you one chance to get on your knees in front of the don and beg for forgiveness like your life depends on it—because it fucking does.
Refuse, and I’ll kill every single one of you and take everything that’s yours. ”
Luigi stared up at me, and a defiant smile slowly moved over his lips.
“Wolfe.” Don Mancini raised his voice behind me.