Chapter 33
Kaz slips his hand into mine as we walk through the Palazzo. Three of his men walk behind us, with another two in front.
Heads turn as we walk past the outside cafes of Palermo. With their long black overcoats, short-cropped hair, and tattoos on their exposed necks and hands, they reek of organized crime. But none of them could be mistaken for Italian.
Viktor holds the door to the restaurant open, and Kaz moves his hand to the small of my back to guide me inside. I was a little girl the last time I visited my family’s estates here, but if I’ve ever been to this restaurant I don’t remember.
But the beauty of this place—the curved archways, candlelight flickering over centuries-old stone, and the mouth-watering aroma of deliciously prepared Italian dishes will be forever etched into my memory.
The restaurant is empty as we continue our way through to a room near the back.
There are two tables with men, all dressed in similar black tailored suits.
I recognize some of the faces— men that hovered when Uncle Vicente would visit.
I also recognize the older man sitting at the head of the long table.
Marco Sartucci. My oldest brother was named after him, out of respect for the position he holds. While there are many families wrapped up in the mafia world, Marco Santucci sits at the head of them all. He answers to none, while they all answer to him.
As we approach the table, my uncle’s men fan out, ready to intervene if this is some sort of attack.
Mr. Santucci gets up from his chair, staring at Kaz as we approach. Kaz gently eases me behind him as he greets my uncle.
“Senor Volkov.” Marco extends his hand. Dark brown spots litter the paper-thin skin.
“Mr. DeAngelo.” Kaz shakes his hand. “You remember your niece, I’m sure.”
Kaz steps to the right, bringing me forward.
“Sienna, yes.” He inclines his head with a small smile. “You were such a small child the last time I saw you. Your father brought you to meet your grandfather. A good man, your grandfather. A good soldier.”
I’m out of my element here. I’m sure there’s an appropriate response, one that shows my loyalty, and trust is in my husband, but also exhibits respect for this powerful man. But I’m at a loss.
“I’m sorry that I don’t remember that meeting. As you said, I was very young.”
He waves at the empty chairs and tells us to sit. Kaz pulls out my chair for me, waiting until I’m comfortably seated before he sits beside me.
Using his mind reading skills, he places a hand on my knee, squeezing it. A gesture that reminds me I’m safe. I’m here with him, and he won’t let anyone do anything to hurt me.
But it’s not just me, I’m worried about. Even with Kaz’s men with us, this place reeks of danger. It hides in every shadow, every dark corner of the restaurant, and it rolls out into the streets.
This is Marco’s town.
“First, I will apologize to you, Sienna.” Marco leans back in his chair while placing his hand onto the table. From his pinky finger sparkles a diamond on the signet. The diamond rests in the middle of the monogramed family initials.
I settle my hands in my lap and bring my gaze up from the symbol of his power to his gaze.
“If I had known what your Uncle Vicente was up to, I would have sent someone else to oversee your brothers. I would have gone myself, had I known what he planned.” His voice is raspy from years of smoking and drinking. Stretched thin from the amount of lies he’s told.
“He fooled us both, then.” I’m being generous with my own lie.
“I assure you none of your family here knew of his treachery. Stealing from his own niece? Threatening the life of a child? No. It’s not what we do.”
Kaz’s grip grows tighter on my knee. He promised to keep his temper under control, no matter how many lies my family uttered tonight. But it’s getting harder the longer my uncle rambles.
“Mr. Santucci.” I take advantage of a pause while he takes a breath. “You can understand then, why I am eager to resolve any disputes between my family here and my new family in the States. I would prefer no more blood be shed.”
“I have no ill will toward your husband.” His gaze cuts to Kaz. “So long as his family keeps to their business and leaves ours to us.”
“That depends on your businesses. We will not allow the torture of women in our city,” Kaz interjects.
“Another unfortunate plan of Vicente that I was unaware of.”
“It would seem you have less power over your families than you think you do,” Kaz snaps.
I cover his hand with my own, squeezing tightly. We can’t make this deal if we are dead.
“I can agree I was too generous with my confidence in some of my family members, but I assure you control and order has been reestablished.” His jaw works, as though he’s repositioning his teeth.
“Then, I don’t see any reason we can’t go forward with what’s been agreed to.”
“The vineyards and wineries in my possession will be sold to you. The properties under my name will also be sold.” I pause.
I haven’t talked to Kaz about this next part.
“But the family estate in New York will not be sold but rather turned into a home for abused women and children. My brothers’ estates in Chicago will be turned into places of rehabilitation for those overcoming drug addiction, special needs, and a school for the deaf and their families.”
“You’ve a soft heart,” Marco says with bitterness.
Kindness isn’t something to be admired in my family.
“The sale price of the estates, businesses, and properties is one hundred million euros.” Kaz flattens his hands on the tabletop.
I have to clench my jaw to keep it from falling to the floor.
Marco drags in a deep breath.
“We’re giving you a discount. On account you were once my wife’s family.”
Marco’s eyes cut to me. “Were? You’ll walk away from your family now?”
Kaz taps his fingers on the table.
“My family walked away from me. When my brothers were allowed to beat and torture me as I was growing up. When Vicente married me off to his enemy in order to keep me from finding out the truth about the estates. When it was proven over and over again women have no value in this family. I learned long ago, I don’t belong here.
I am not one of you. Take the offer. If you say no, I’ll keep everything and my husband’s family will stretch their power across this island. ”
Marco’s face reddens.
“I don’t believe the Russians and the Italians enjoy each other’s company much. I doubt the people of Palermo would be grateful to you for bringing them here.”
Kaz gets up, his chair scraping against the stone floor loudly. He helps me from my seat.
“We have a flight to catch. You will let us know your decision.”
Marco barks an order in Italian at one of his men who takes a step toward us. Kaz jerks around to face him, his hand on his gun settles on his side holster.
“I didn’t come for blood, but I don’t mind spilling it on my way out.”
Marco snaps his fingers, and the man backs down, his face contorted in anger. I recognize him as the man who stayed in my home in New York. The one who stood by Vicente’s side. The loyal lapdog apparently will sit for anyone holding his bone.
Kaz’s men fall in behind us as we make our way from the restaurant.
“Thank you,” I say when we’re in the back of the car driving to the airport.
He pulls me close to him. “For what?”
“Not killing everyone in there.”
He half smiles. “I won’t lie, I was hoping they’d give me a reason.”
I laugh. “If I remember right, the last thing Alexander said to us when we dropped Tommy off was not to start an international war.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I ignored my brother’s orders.” He pulls the lapels of my coat up higher. “Are you cold? You should have worn the heavier coat.”
I push his hands away. “I’m fine. It’s fifty degrees outside. It’s colder at home than here.”
“Still.” He shifts in his seat as his phone rings. I move over to the passenger window, to watch as we make our way closer to the airport.
By the time we drive through the fenced gates to the plane waiting for us, Kaz ends his call.
“Good news?” I ask when he leans his head back with a grin.
“They agreed to the amount. The papers have already been signed. The money transfer will be complete by the time we touch down in Chicago.”
“By the time we get home, I won’t have anything to do with them?” A wave of relief crashes over me.
“I think your threat of bringing the Russians into their village hit home.” He grins. “They really are stupid.”
“Do you…do you already have your hands in Sicily?”
“Our reach is everywhere, sweetheart. But it would have been fun making a show of it there.”
The car stops, and my door swings open. Kaz walks me up the steps to the plane and brings me to the last row of seats, settling me into the window seat.
A flight attendant brings us each a bottle of water and asks if we would like anything else before take-off. Kaz waves her away.
“What happened to your little friend?” I ask as I pull my coat off and drape it on my lap to use as a blanket.
He takes it from me and tosses it onto the seat across the aisle then hands me a blanket from the overhead compartment to use instead.
“I had her fired.”
“What?” My smile falls with surprise. “Why?”
He sits beside me and reaches over to pull my seatbelt over my lap. “Because she disrespected my wife. By the time you left the airport that night she’d been dismissed.”
I blink. “But you hated me that night. Why would you do something like that?”
He cups my face, dragging me to stare at him. “You were mine before I even knew your real name.”
I swallow hard, like I’m drinking from the well of life. And every sip of him I take will bring me closer to eternal love.
The airplane jolts to life, and I grab for the arm rests. He chuckles and takes my hand in his.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll be in the air soon. Then we can go in the back, and I’ll make you forget all about flying.”
“Is that safe to do while we’re in the air?” I ask, squeezing his fingers together.
“Sweetheart, I promise you, once you’re naked and beneath me, the last thing you’re going to be thinking about is the airplane.”
He leans into me, tucking my hair behind my ear and kissing my cheek. “You can do that for me, right? You can be my good girl and let me make you feel good?”
And I’m lost.
The plane shifts as we take off, and I squeak.
“You’ll do as your told, because you like being told what to do. You like making me proud. You like being my good girl.” He rolls his voice.
My heart is doing the tango in my chest, but it has less to do with the plane and more to do with the way his breath washes over my face as he continues talking.
His hand rests on my thigh, massaging as he moves up toward the very wet spot of my panties.
“You love being my good girl. Don’t you?” He whispers in my ear as the plane levels out.
“Yes, sir.”