Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Luca
P ulling out a burner phone, I dialed Sergio. I needed an update. My brothers were sweating one of our informants tonight, trying to get information on Niccolò, and it was taking too fucking long.
Sergio answered my call right away. “Pronto.”
“What have you learned?”
“Ciao, fratello,” he said. “Nothing. This guy doesn’t know anything.”
“Cazzo!” I slapped a palm on the desk. “A Benetti does not disappear like this. Someone would be bragging about the arrest or the hit.”
“I know, which is why it’s strange. But there’s no sign of him at all. If Niccolò is being held, no one is saying where.”
“And he’s still not picking up his mobile?”
“No.”
I could hear my other brothers, Dante and Enrico, the youngest brothers, laughing in the background. I ground my back teeth together. Those two treated the mafia life like a big party. Murder, booze, drugs, women . . . they loved the money and the power. At least Sergio took things seriously.
“Allora, are you getting her on a plane?” Sergio asked. “Or are you still thinking her father shows up?”
“I want to give it a few days. If Segreto’s close, he’ll learn I’m here and show up.”
“How do you know?”
“My gut.” We took this very seriously in my world. Instinct kept up alive, so we’d learned to trust it.
“And if he doesn’t, you’ll get her on a plane.”
“If we don’t find Niccolò, then yes. But I’m still not certain we aren’t being played.”
“Just as long as you’re prepared.”
I swiveled my chair to stare through the window out to the river. The soothing view did nothing to ease the irritation I felt. “And why wouldn’t I be prepared to do whatever is necessary for the family?”
“I’m not saying you won’t.” He paused. “I hear she brought you dinner.”
Fuck, these gossiping men. I changed topics. “Did you speak to Gabriele?”
“I did. I told him women think men who drive cars like that have small dicks.”
A grin tugged at my mouth. “And?”
“And he canceled the order with the dealership.”
Thank Christ. “Grazie, Sergio. I appreciate all you’re doing while I’m away.”
“You’d do the same for any of us. And I love my nephews, the little fucks.” He told me to hold on, then yelled, “You two, make yourselves useful. Go help with the cleanup.”
Ah, so the informant was dead. We’d need to find another to replace him when I returned home.
“Anything else?” I asked my brother.
“Rossi called earlier. Wanted an update on the girl. ”
Interesting that he hadn’t called me. “And what did you tell him?”
“I lied and said you hadn’t found her yet.”
“Good. Don’t tell him shit until I figure all of this out.”
“Okay, but turning over Segreto’s daughter buys us time.”
“Maybe. But I don’t like helping the GDF on a maybe . I want facts.”
Sergio didn’t say anything, his silence weighted with judgment.
I gripped the burner phone tighter. “Do you have something to say, fratello?”
“Are you fucking her?”
“That is none of your fucking business.”
“Luca, we need you here, not there. And it seems as if you’re in no hurry. I have to wonder if she’s the reason.”
I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me like this.
From the moment I walked into that shit show of a restaurant, I was drawn to her. And the craving worsened with every second I spent in her presence. I could claim it was out of pity, that I wished to care for her as I would one of my boys. But there was nothing paternal about the way my dick responded to her, like it wanted to break her apart, split her open and completely wreck her.
And if I did decide to fuck her, no one had a right to say a word. I was the don, the head of our family. I didn’t owe answers to anyone. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
“Come on, Luca. This is me. Stop trying to bullshit me.”
Brother or not, he was pissing me off. “This is family business, fratello, and I am the head of the family. This means I make the rules. Leave the girl and New York to me. Capisce?”
“Is that how it is?”
“Sì, certo. If you learn anything, ring me right away.” I disconnected, then broke the burner apart with my hands, plastic snapping as I destroyed it.
A knock sound .
“Prego!” I snarled. Aldo appeared and I could tell right away something was wrong. “What is it?”
“Roberto rang me. I guess the mayor stopped by the restaurant and scared the shit out of Valentina. Something about his daughter getting fired. He’s taking it out on Valentina, claiming permits weren’t filed for the renovations and saying he’s going to shut her down. I guess she was really freaked.”
“He, what?”
“Then the mayor suggested he and Valentina have dinner to discuss it.”
There is a thing that happens when I get very angry. I get quiet. The complete opposite of our father, who would shout and scream his head off about every little thing. I always swore that when I took over I would never act like a raving madman.
So I absorbed the fury and let it sink in, let it fester inside me like an infected wound, corroding and destroying. I used it as fuel to make decisions, plot retribution that no normal person would dare to carry out.
The mayor was a dead man.
I waited in the dark.
The house was what one would expect, tasteless and full of its own importance. Americans had no sense of shame when it came to showing off their wealth. They didn’t understand that true wealth was what you left behind for your family, your legacy, and living simply meant living longer.
Aldo argued against this errand, saying it was too risky for me to handle, but I insisted. This was personal to me. I would deal with the mayor myself, without a public display. And without killing him. Unfortunately. But I didn’t need the hassle of the American police. So this meant I needed to get creative .
I wasn’t worried. He would receive my message as clear as a fucking bell.
It wasn’t long before the garage door began grinding open. I checked my watch and saw it was nine-thirty.
He was on his mobile as he entered the house, his voice full of arrogance as he disconnected the alarm system. “No, hold out on that a little longer. They can come up with more.” A pause. “He’s full of shit. Don’t believe a word he says. Listen, I have to go. I just walked in and the wife’ll kill me if I wake her up.” He chuckled at whatever the person on the other end said. “Yeah, I don’t want her finding out about that either. See you tomorrow morning. Tee time is six-fifteen. Don’t be fuckin’ late.”
I heard him open the refrigerator, a sliver of light shining from the kitchen. Bottles rattled, then the door closed again. A metal cap hit the counter. A loud belch. Then his footsteps drew closer.
I switched on the lamp beside me.
His head snapped up. When he saw me, the glass bottle in his hand hit the floor with a thunk. “Fuck!” he hissed. “Who the hell are you? How did you get into my house?”
I was calm and quiet, in control, seated in the armchair with a heavy golf club draped across my lap. “I suggest you lower your voice.” I rolled the driver in my fingers, twirling it. “And listen to every word I say.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Who are you?”
“I’m a friend of Valentina’s. That is all you need to know.”
The mayor’s eyebrows flew up. “This is about Val?”
The fact that he used her nickname, as if they were close, caused a white-hot bolt of fury to rocket through me. “Signorina Montella to you, stronzo.”
“Listen, I don’t know who you think you are?—”
“I am the man telling you to stay the fuck away from her.”
He swallowed, but gathered his courage to say, “This is my town. You can’t tell me what to do. I’m the mayor.”
“I know who you are—you’re a man who preys on vulnerable women to get his dick wet. So listen up, because I’m only going to tell you this once.”
I rose slowly, my hand tightening on the club handle. Then, in one smooth and quick motion, I stepped forward and swung the club. It landed directly between the mayor’s legs—the wooden head smacking into his balls. Instantly, the mayor crumpled to the ground with a groan and a long curse.
Bending, I grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his face up to see mine. “Do not say her name. Do not stop by her restaurant. She does not exist for you. Am I making myself understood?”
The mayor’s face was pale, his eyes glazed with pain, but he was wise enough to nod.
Letting him go, I straightened and snapped the club in half, then threw the pieces on the carpet. “She doesn’t need any fucking permits. And she won’t pay any fines or suck your tiny pathetic dick. If you try that shit again, I’ll do more than break your balls. Capisce?”
I started for the front door. Just as I reached the hall, the mayor wheezed, “How did you . . . get past my alarm system?”
I snorted. Did he honestly think a cheap alarm system would stop someone like me? “I’m like a ghost. And I’m always watching.”
Without another word, I opened the front door and disappeared into the night.