21. Cian
Cian
B ehind Davide Pontrelli stand two men, bodyguards.
His brother Lorenzo has been dead for less than twenty-four hours, so I imagine the Italian’s are scrambling to reorganize where their leader is concerned.
Has Davide even appointed an underboss yet?
A consigliere? I’m guessing not since he’s here without either.
Which is fine with me. I’d rather negotiate with one man, rather than three.
I also brought two bodyguards, leaving Wolfe on the compound in case things go south.
This meeting includes just us six men in a private room at Spades restaurant this morning.
No show of power by either of us having too many men at our side.
Weapons were left at the door, of course, though we both know the other is secretly packing. It’s simply the way of our world.
“What’s this matter you need to speak with me about so urgently?” he asks from across the table. “I’m a busy man. In case you haven’t heard, my brother was murdered last night.”
“Yes. I’ve heard. The late don Lorenzo is why I’m here. I?—”
“Everybody out.” He motions to his guards in dismissal. “We’ll speak in private.”
I watch his security detail leave the room before nodding to my men, indicating they should also go.
Once it’s just the two of us, Pontrelli narrows his gaze on me. “Let me guess. You murdered my brother.”
It’s not a question, but I incline my head anyway.
He doesn’t seem surprised by my admission. “Well that’s a problem. It’s unforgivable.”
“Unforgivable.” I mull the word around in my mouth. “What’s unforgivable is the late don Lorenzo beating my wife . Selling my wife . He had no authority to do either. Ravenna O’Rourke belongs to me and only me. He was in violation of our contract.”
Davide shakes his head. “You abandoned her, returning her to her father and therefore made him responsible for her again.”
I grimace. That was my mistake, but it’s no excuse for what her father did to her.
“Where she lived has no bearing on the peace negotiated between our people. But I draw the line at having what’s mine abused.
I had every right to end don Lorenzo’s life because of how he treated my wife.
And he was in breach of contract by trying to sell her to another man.
” I lean forward on my elbows. “Would you not kill a man for beating your wife, don Davide? For disrespecting her, and you?”
I hold my breath, hoping this man cares about his own wife a fraction of how much I care about mine. Or that he at least cares about his reputation enough to defend it. A man disrespecting his wife would, by extension, be disrespecting to him. They are one and the same.
Several heartbeats of silence linger between us.
I read his answer clearly in his eyes before he says a single word. He has killed for his wife in the past. Of that I’m sure. But will he admit to it? Will he take my side?
Or will he defend his brother and throw away the peace between us?
The strained quiet stretches as Davide takes out a cigar and lights it, repeatedly puffing on the end as he considers his response.
I keep my mouth shut and wait. Sometimes silence is the best negotiation tactic.
Davide bobs his head, a thick cloud of spicy smoke escaping his mouth. “I would kill any man who dishonors my wife, but this is not the same. The man you murdered in cold blood was my brother and don of the Pontrelli family. I must demand a life for a life.”
No fucking way.
“Lorenzo’s death was vengeance. You can either accept that and we continue our peace treaty, or else it means war. I have the right to defend my wife—even from her own father and your family’s don.”
Davide sits back in his chair, studying me through narrowed eyes as he puffs his cigar. Once again, silence stretches between us, and my muscles bunch with tension.
This time, I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He could decide to go against his word and take me out right here and now. Problem solved. Though that would guarantee more blood in the streets, and no chance of a second peace treaty.
“You killed my family’s don. If I let that go, I will look weak.” Davide blows out smoke rings. “Luckily, no one knows it was you. Except me, of course. My men are tracking down my brother’s killer as we speak. It’s better for both of us if they don’t end up on your doorstep.”
I study his relaxed expression. “I want to keep the peace between our people.”
“So do I. Which is why a man will be publicly executed at an event that shows our solidarity.”
“What do you have in mind?” I sit back in my chair and it creaks under my weight.
“A fight night. One of your guys against one of mine. The best from our ranks. Better make it a good show to give my people what they want to see. Blood.”
“Done.”
He leans forward. “There’s one catch. Your Irishman has to lose the match. That’s my price for keeping your secret.”
“Done,” I grunt. It’s a small price to pay to keep the peace and my secret safe.
Davide nods. “We’ll set it up for tomorrow night on neutral ground. I think the Kozlov Russians will accommodate us at Riot. ”
“Agreed. We’ll be there.” I stand, ready to end this meeting, when a thought strikes me. “Davide, I have a sensitive question for you.”
He grunts and inclines his chin, signaling for me to continue.
“Did anyone on your side kidnap Elena Pontrelli in an attempt to stop the wedding, and therefore the peace treaty?”
“No.” He taps cigar ashes into a tray. “With the number of loved ones we’ve lost these past few years, my people are all on board for peace. If anyone tried to interfere it would be on your side. You should search out that Judas.”
“I see. I will.” At this point, I have to take his word for it.
I don’t see any reason for his people or mine to want to stop our alliance.
We’ve both seen too much bloodshed, lost too many good men.
Which means the interference came from the outside.
This piece of information I keep to myself—for now.
But who could it have been? The Russians?
Doubtful as they are seeking their own alliance with the Italians, and so far my people don’t have any beef with the bratvas.
But there are so many others who could want to stop us.
The Albanians, one of the Cartels, maybe even a single person with a grudge.
The possibilities are endless. Unfortunately.
“ C ian, you can’t do this.” Wolfe stands in my way, as if that will stop me from exiting my own house. “Let me do it. Let me go in your place.”
I sigh, tired of this argument. “No. That’s final. It’s also an order.”
“Fuck you, you stubborn bastard,” he says, but his tone holds no venom, only exasperation. He looks tired.
“Keep my wife here and safe. That’s what I need you to do.”
Heels click on the tile floor of the entry hall, alerting me to Ravenna’s arrival. “I’m not staying here while you get repeatedly punched in the face.”
“Oh?” I lift a brow. “Is that something you’d like to see, broc meala? ”
She folds her arms. “With how stubborn you’re being about this, yes, I very much want to see someone punch you in the face. You should let Wolfe do the fighting. What are people going to think when you, leader of the Gaelic Devils, loses the match to an Italian?”
Wolfe stands in the background, scrutinizing Ravenna. He has yet to warm up to her, much like the rest of my men. Which is fine, I don’t want them getting too cozy with her. They need to keep their interactions professional.
I shrug. “They’ll know I threw the match.”
“Oh really? How’s that?” Her hands land on her hips. Fuck, I missed her sass.
“You’re so sexy when you’re upset with me.” I step closer to her, trailing my fingertips along her rigid jawline. I bend down for a kiss and she lets me press my lips to hers. I hum with approval.
“This is the way it has to be. If I put anyone other than myself in that ring tonight, my men will be upset when they lose. But they know me. They know I don’t go down easy. They’ll see this for what it is—a peace offering in blood.”
Ravenna huffs in frustration and I pull her in for another kiss. It’s the most sexual contact we’ve had since her return. Her healing bruises give me pause about touching her anywhere else.
One more lingering kiss.
Then it’s time to go.
I point to Wolfe. “Keep her by your side at all times.”
His brows reach his hairline. “You’re letting her come with us?”
“Believe it or not, my wife is as stubborn as I am. There’s no point in arguing with her once she’s made up her mind about something. Now come on. The car’s waiting.” I jog out the front door, duffle bag in hand.
There was never any question in my mind about who to put in the ring.
It has to be me. The Italians will get the show they want, of one of their own beating the shit out of me, leader of the Irish.
And my men trust my authority. Once I lose, and order them not to retaliate, they’ll honor my wishes. It’s a win-win.
This fight is in the spirit of solidarity. Good old fashion sportsmanship. We all understand that.
The Kozlov Russians agreed to let us hold the fight at Riot’s underground arena. They will also be there to ensure the peace. No blood will be shed on their turf, outside of the ring. Inside the cage is an entirely different matter.
As the car starts to roll, I pull Ravenna into my side, unable to keep my distance from her now that she’s with me again, in my arms. Where she always should have been.
Guilt claws at me as I dwell on everything she’s been through since I rashly returned her to her father. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.
She’s mine to protect, and I gravely failed in my duty.
Kissing the top of her head, I murmur, “How are you doing?” I don’t have to say more than that, she knows what I’m talking about. My question encompasses everything from how she’s feeling both physically and emotionally. I also want to know how she feels about her parents’ deaths. Everything.
“I’m okay, I guess. Still reeling a bit. My sister’s staying with our cousins, but I want her to come live with us after tonight. I need to keep an eye on her after… everything that’s happened.”
“Consider it done. And the funerals?” A sliver of guilt cuts through my chest knowing that I’m responsible for not only the deaths of her brother and father, but also, in a way, her mother.
If one day Ravenna turns on me, I’ll know why. I’ll also know I deserved it.
I’ve destroyed this woman’s family. My only hope at making amends centers on treating her sister and extended family well. So long as they deserve it. Ravenna loves her twin, so I’ll do what I can to help the girl.
“My aunt is already arranging the funerals. We’ll have to attend, but I’m worried about Elena’s safety. The man who took her is still out there. Isn’t he?”
“My people are continuing to look for him. The Italians and I will have top-notch security at the funerals, so don’t worry about that.” I pause, gazing down at my beautiful bride. “I’m sorry about your mother. Truly.”
She leans into me, wrapping her arms around my waist, and sighs.
“I’m so conflicted about my feelings for her.
She’s my mother, and I loved her, even though she always did what Papa wanted.
Even the last time I saw her, she was the one who did my hair and makeup.
” Her voice catches in her throat. “She made me pretty for the auction. What kind of mother does that? I hate her for doing that, but I still love her. I don’t know.
It will take me some time to figure it all out.
In the meantime, I’m so worried about Elena. ”
“We’ll take care of her. I promise.” I hold her tighter, closer.
“Thank you.” She rests against me, like I’m her rock.
An hour later, the car pulls into the underground parking garage at Riot and we all step out. In another few hours, it will be show time.