Wolfe
We had construction at the property to begin repairing all the damage.
Part of the main villa had been ravaged by fire, the windows shattered from gunfire, bullet holes across the entire house.
Not to mention all the other destruction.
Don Mancini knew all the right people, and he had a crew out there quickly to start the repairs.
It was important to restore the property and erase the memory of what our enemies had done to us.
It was no different from hiding an open wound from your opponent.
Business paused momentarily so we could take care of everything. My skills were better used in other capacities, but I was a team player, so I helped out like everyone else. Don Mancini wasn’t around much, staying in his office or attending the funerals that he wasn’t even welcome at.
I saw Francesca around the property sometimes, and it was torture.
Torture to look at her and not touch her.
Torture to pretend like she wasn’t the single most important person in my life.
The lava-hot feelings that bubbled within my chest rivaled the heat inside Mount Etna.
I felt like I would erupt every single time I looked at her, whether she was dressed in one of her cute dresses while at work or when she wore a messy bun and my t-shirt around the house.
I always felt like my heart was about to crack in two.
I watched the construction team and painters work to repair the bullet holes in the walls. I’d somehow become the property manager for this thing. My eyes lifted to the shattered window when movement caught my gaze. “Figgh’i buttana…”
I caught a glimpse of Francesca, a hint of the pastel blue dress she wore.
I didn’t see her face or anything else. Repairs hadn’t started in that room yet because we were waiting for a shipment of a particular wood from the mainland that Don Mancini wanted, so she had no reason to be there, to expose herself to the secondhand smoke lingering from the fire the assholes had caused.
I left the workers and headed upstairs in the villa.
I walked down the hallway that had felt like a mile when the shootout took place.
I’d driven like a madman to get to her and sprinted down the hallway to make sure I saved her in time.
I lived for that rush of adrenaline in moments like that, but when it had actually happened and Francesca’s life was on the line, I hadn’t felt any adrenaline at all.
Only fear.
I approached the office and spotted her inside, wearing her pretty blue dress and her platform sandals to give her some height since she was so petite compared to me.
Her arms were crossed over her chest like she was cold, but it was a warm day with the sun coming through the window, so she was probably just uneasy.
Uneasy standing in the room where she’d fought on her own.
She tilted her head back as she looked at the soot and fire damage that went all the way to the ceiling.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice me staring at her in the doorway.
Her throat shifted when she swallowed. Her eyes trailed back down again and she turned toward the doorway, but when she realized I was there, she gave a jolt in surprise.
“Cristo…” She released a quiet gasp before her hand went to her chest.
I continued to lean against the doorframe. “Looking for something?”
“No. I just…” Her eyes went back to the soot marks. “I don’t know… I thought it would help.”
She’d had a couple nightmares, but she hadn’t spoken of it since. I’d assumed she was moving past it. “Don’t underestimate yourself, baby.”
She turned her head to look at me again.
“They came here for you—but you fucking annihilated them.”
Her eyes flicked away like she couldn’t take the compliment. “I was so fucking scared.”
“Which makes it even more impressive. People panic and lose all sense of direction, but you continued to load and shoot.” I respected Don Mancini for a lot of reasons, but I respected him the most for how he’d raised his daughter.
Trained her for military combat so well that she was able to do what she needed to do without having to think about it.
It was instinct. “And when you didn’t have a gun, you cut them open. ”
“Only because of what you taught me.”
“That’s my job,” I said proudly. “And I’m going to keep teaching you everything I know.”
“Sometimes I wonder if I’m cut out for this.” She stared at the wall again.
I studied the side of her face, watched her fall into consternation. “I think so.”
She turned to look at me again, and this time, she turned her entire body toward me. Her eyes were full of hesitation and trepidation. She’d been so calm and confident when I’d met her, but she seemed to have lost herself momentarily.
“Remember.” I stepped toward her and entered the office, drawing closer while she didn’t move away.
She didn’t seem to care if anyone walked by and saw us together because she let me wrap my arm around the small of her back and slide my hand into her hair.
“Remember exactly who the fuck you are, Francesca Mancini.”
Her eyes flicked away momentarily, and the corner of her mouth lifted in a pained smile. “That I’m a tough bitch.”
“Tough. Fucking. Bitch.” I brought her face close to mine, our foreheads almost touching as I stared into her brilliant green eyes. “With a man who will go scorched earth for her.”
The day was almost over when I got a text from Santino, whom I hadn’t heard from in weeks.
Can you meet up?
For what reason?
Need to talk to you about something.
I read the message a couple more times, standing outside the winery because I was about to head to my Range Rover in the parking lot. My mind worked furiously to connect dots that weren’t even on the page. Then a smirk moved over my lips. Or you just need something from me.
I’ll meet you at Florio at seven.
I’m not going to drive three hours when you’re the one who needs a favor. Meet me in Caltanissetta if you want to talk.
Fine.
I knew Francesca was at one of the many funerals with her father.
I felt bad for texting her when she was probably seated on a pew in a church, but I wanted to give her a heads-up about my plans.
Didn’t want her to make dinner for me when I wouldn’t be home to eat it.
I’ve gotta meet an old friend for dinner tonight in Caltanissetta.
Probably won’t be home until after nine.
Then I shared my location with her, realizing I hadn’t already done it.
That way, if she ever wanted to know where I was or if I was on my way home, she could just check my location.
Her three little dots popped up and then her message. Thanks for letting me know, babe.
The biggest fucking grin stretched across my face when I read that. “Babe.” She didn’t say it a lot, but when she did, it turned me the fuck on. A possessive endearment. I was frustrated she hadn’t come clean to her dad, but I knew her hesitation had nothing to do with the way she felt about me.
I got to the restaurant first and ordered a stiff drink while I waited for Santino.
I noticed that Francesca had started to share her location with me, reciprocating my gesture of transparency.
We were in deep now.
There was nothing her father could do or say to put a stop to this relationship. He could try to kill me, but that wouldn’t work out so well for him. And he knew full well that I wasn’t the kind of man he wanted as an enemy.
Santino finally walked into the restaurant, looking the same except for the thick beard he now sported. He pulled out the chair across from me and took a seat. He ordered his drink from the waitress then crossed his arms over his chest. “That was a bitch of a drive.”
“Which is why I didn’t make it.”
He gave a quiet chuckle before he looked at the menu. “What’s good here?”
Last time I was here, I didn’t make it through dinner. I took Francesca to a boutique hotel across the street and made her cry when she came. We had the leftovers in bed. But I kept that information to myself. “The roast chicken is pretty good.”
The waitress came over and set his drink in front of him. “Ready to order?”
“Yeah.” I ordered the chicken then looked at Santino.
“I’ll have the same.”
She took the menus and walked off.
Santino uncrossed his arms and looked at me again.
I was relaxed in the chair, waiting for him to cut to the chase.
He rubbed the back of his neck like he didn’t know where to start.
“If you want something, just ask for it.”
“That doesn’t work.”
“It works for me just fine.” For women and business.
“Well, you’re kind of a psychopath.”
“Kind of?” I teased.
He grabbed his glass and took a drink of his old-fashioned before he shook the ice and returned it to the table. “How are things with Don Mancini?”
“Is this small talk, or are you actually asking?”
“Both.”
“It’s been good. No complaints.”
“Heard about everything that went down with Umberto.”
“No shit. I hung him from a tree next to the highway. It’s been all over the fucking news.” And I knew his wife had to have seen it. Now she was a widow because her late husband was an idiot.
“The Mancinis would all be long gone if it weren’t for you.”
I wanted to say no shit, but I didn’t want to disrespect my employer. But I really didn’t want to disrespect my woman’s father because that was fucking treason. “Luigi was so focused on the sheep that he failed to notice the wolf.”
“Luigi and Umberto never would have crossed Cosa Nostra.”
“True.”
“So you single-handedly had to clean up that mess.”
“Not single-handedly.” A little smirk moved over my lips when I thought about Francesca blasting all those guys to pieces on her own. God, she was so fucking hot. Couldn’t wait to fuck her when I got home.
“Still seems like a major step down for you.”