12. Trust Me #3
“Depends on the situation. We’ve all been the bad guy.” Evangeline opened the door, gestured for him to enter, and shut it behind her.
Sin was sitting behind his desk talking with a man in one of the guest chairs. Both rose, made their way over. After shaking Sin’s hand, Sin introduced the other man.
“Gabriel Santini, Crockett Wilde, one of my oldest and closest friends.”
“Good to meet you, Gabriel,” Crockett said shaking his hand. “I’ve got a few items for you to check out.”
“Crockett’s company—Wilde Innovations—is known for his Spy Flies,” Sin said. “But his product line includes dozens of gadgets.”
Everyone got comfortable around the conference room table.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Sin asked. “Sparkling water? We can order lunch if you haven’t eaten.”
“I’m good.” Gabriel’s gaze drifted over the products Crockett had brought with him, the diamond rings catching his eye.
Evangeline lifted a pair of black-rimmed glasses. “Halston has these. They take pictures and capture short video that get uploaded directly.”
“Where?” Gabriel asked.
“To me,” Evangeline replied. “But that can be redirected to anywhere.”
Gabriel eyed the pack of cigarettes.
“Let me walk you through the products,” Crockett said. “This pack of cigarettes is a grenade. This lipstick is a small gun, used for close-range assassinations.” He uncapped the stick, rolled up a pink lipstick.” The lipstick is plastic.” He removed it, revealing a tiny pistol.”
When Crockett got to the rings, Evangeline modeled her own hand and Sin did the same.
“These are wedding bands with built-in homing locations,” Sin explained. “If either of us is taken or gets in an accident—”
“Like getting thrown off a motorcycle in the dead of night and ending up in the freezing waters of the Potomac River,” Evangeline said, finishing his sentence.
Gabriel slid his gaze from one to the other. “That happened?”
“It did,” Sin replied. “Evan saved me.”
After they showed him the app on their phones, Gabriel eyed their rings. Evangeline’s was a platinum band loaded with diamonds. Sin’s a titanium wedding ring without gems.
“Those rings are my newest invention,” Crockett explained.
“They work great,” Sin said.
Gabriel lifted a women’s diamond eternity ring, wondering how Halston would react to the gift. A bold move, but Gabriel wanted her to know he cared. He also wanted her safe.
“This ring has a GPS tracker in it?” Gabriel confirmed.
“Yes,” Crockett replied. “They all do.”
For Halston, Gabriel selected a platinum eternity band with a center row of black diamonds flanked on each side by a row of white diamonds.
“And this for me,” he said, holding up the black titanium band with a row of black diamonds in the center.
Gabriel handed his credit card to Crockett.
“With the Friends and Family discount, that’s nineteen thousand” Crockett said. “I’ll text you the link so you can download the app. Sorry, I don’t have gift bags.”
Everyone laughed.
“I’m relieved to hear that,” Sin said. “I would have been worried about you, my brother.”
More laughter.
Evangeline rose. “I’ve got something you can use.”
While Gabriel downloaded the app, Crockett ran his card. Evangeline returned with a small gift bag and some white tissue paper. She wrapped both rings, tucked them inside the bag.
“I’ll walk you out,” Sin said to Gabriel.
“I need to tell you both something,” Gabriel said.
“I can step out,” Crockett replied.
“Crockett won’t say anything,” Sin assured him.
“You need to hear this from me,” Gabriel said to Sin and Evangeline. “I’ve got some Bratva business to finish out and I’ve got a helper.”
Evangeline huffed. “Gabriel, no.”
“Look, I told her no. She pushed back. She’s more stubborn than I am.” Gabriel took the gift bag. “I won’t let anything happen to her. You have my word. As a Santini, my word is everything.”
At four o’clock that afternoon, Gabriel was squirreled away in the manager’s office at the family restaurant. His underboss and close friend, Angelo Moretti, watched the video of the four Bratva attacking Gabriel.
“Ouch,” Angelo said. “You know, I’ve never been shot.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“I’m a Moretti” He grinned. “We were born under a lucky star.”
“Okay, Mr. Lucky, I gotta paint the door—”
“I got it done when you were out.”
“Who helped you?” Gabriel asked.
Angelo chuffed out a throaty laugh, pulled a cigarette from the pack. “Just say thank you.”
“Smoke out front,” Gabriel said.
Angelo fiddled with the cigarette. “Come see how good it looks.”
The two men stood in front of the small salon, made more private and secure with a steel door painted black.
“You did good, fratello,” Gabriel said.
“She’s gonna appreciate what you done for her. She must be somethin’ special, ‘cause those wedding rings are a serious gift—”
“They’re spy gadgets,” Gabriel corrected him.
Another smoker’s laugh from Angelo. “I hope she’s cool ‘bout it ‘cause they look like the real thing to me.” He popped the unlit cigarette into his mouth. “Back in five.”
Gabriel opened the newly painted door to the salon, appreciating that it swung silently on its hinges. Back in the office, he did payroll, but got interrupted by his ringing phone. It was Carmelo, the GM at Santini Spirits, his whisky distillery in Milan.
“Ciao,” he answered as he glanced at the time. “It’s late, everything okay?”
“We have a problem, Boss.”
As Gabriel listened, his blood turned to ice in his veins.
“How fast can you get here?” his GM asked.
Gabriel wanted to jump on the Santini jet and fly to Italy now. Right now. But he couldn’t pivot on a dime.
“Give me a few days—”
“You won’t have a distillery if you wait that long,” said his GM. “Fuck, they’re back.” The line went dead.
Gabriel shoved out of the chair. He’d left his business in competent hands… or so he’d thought. What happened to the ruthless men he’d hired?
Teddy bounded into the room, broke into a grin when he saw his brother.
“Can no one handle the fucking Bratva without me?” Gabriel grumbled.
“Say what?” Teddy asked.
“I’ve got a problem in Italy. I have to fly home.”
Teddy glanced around, furrowed his brows. “I smell paint. Do you smell it?”
Gabriel’s mind was racing. He needed to leave, but he had to handle Pavel Donskoy—alias Bob Smith—first. “Too much going on.”
He brought Teddy into the hallway outside the small dining salon, pulled the door closed.
“What the hell?” Teddy boomed. “Why’d you do this?”
“What’s the problem?”
“You didn’t run it by us. You don’t own the restaurant.”
“It’s a door. Relax, you can take it down—”
“That’s not the point, for fuck’s sake.”
Normally, Gabriel got into it with Greystone, but he’d do battle with Teddy if he had to. Didn’t matter who was on the other end of his knuckles.