Chapter 10
TEN
Nico
“Thanks for untying me,” Hope said after she’d finished her food.
I chuckled. “Trouble, your mouth is saying thank you, but your eyes are telling a different story.”
“Well I apologize,” she said, twisting her fingers together. It was an odd little habit of hers, a mix between nerves and anger fighting to get out.
I felt something…something much too much like guilt, but I quickly squelched it.
Reminded myself that if I hadn’t been as smart as I was, she would have shot me, and apparently with no hesitation.
Still, I didn’t like that she was experiencing discomfort, and surprisingly, didn’t like that her discomfort had been at my hands.
“You’ll get used to it,” I said.
She glared at me again, but then seemed to remember herself, and quickly schooled her features.
I wondered how she was able to do that.
She was skittish, which was understandable, but this was something else.
The way she reacted, the way she tried to handle me, told me that she had experience with unpredictable situations—and unpredictable men.
I didn’t like that either.
I gathered the trash and then turned abruptly and headed toward the door.
I was spending too much time with her, thinking about her and her feelings far too much.
Especially when I had so many other, much more vital, things to be doing.
“Remember to behave, or Sebastian will tell me,” I said.
I turned to look at her, and could see the anger burning in her eyes before she again hid it.
I suspected that she wanted to challenge me, ask me what exactly would be the consequences, but she held her tongue.
She was far too good at that.
So instead of speaking all of the words I knew were in her head, she gave a mirthless smile. “Huh. The goon’s name is Sebastian,” she muttered.
I only barely kept myself from smiling. “Goon, eh? He’d be offended if he heard you say that, so it’s best you keep quiet so you won’t have to deal with him.”
I left without another word, instantly feeling a low thud in my chest, something almost like an ache.
Which I hated.
I didn’t ache .
I didn’t desire. Especially not stupid, innocent girls who found themselves in my path.
But I wanted her.
Desperately, yet I knew I couldn’t indulge that feeling, so I tried my hardest to keep it away.
“Keep an eye on her,” I said to Sebastian.
“I’m on babysitting duty?” he responded, almost pouting, the expression ridiculous on the face of a stone-cold killer like Sebastian.
My reaction was swift. “You’re on whatever the fuck I tell you duty,” I said, glaring at him.
“Sorry, Nico. No offense,” he said, raising his hands to placate me.
“Then watch your fucking tongue, and do as your told, Sebastian,” I said.
I looked back up the stairway, then back at him.
“Just do your fucking job, and no screw-ups,” I said.
He nodded, then adjusted his shirt.
It wasn’t a formal apology, but I’d made myself clear.
I left the living room, going down to the garage, anxious to leave the townhouse.
Hope had my head fucked up, and I needed to be focused for what I had to do next.
The drive passed in a blur, but in twenty minutes, I found myself turning in a garage Don Carlo owned.
Enzo was waiting for me
“Are they gathered?” I asked when Enzo settled in the passenger seat of my car.
“Everyone’s waiting at the club,” he responded.
Another fifteen minutes, and I was back at Carlo’s .
“Slide Giacobbe a few dollars extra for his work,” I said when we got out of the car.
“You haven’t seen inside yet,” Enzo said.
“No, but what’s inside doesn’t matter as much as what others can see, and he’s done a good job on the outside. I wouldn’t know that there been a fucking shootout here unless I’d been there myself. Which is exactly why he deserves to be paid so well,” I said.
And it was true.
The sidewalk had some debris, but nothing out of the ordinary, and I was sure that if it were cleaner, it would look more suspicious.
More importantly, the window and doors had no visible bullet holes, no splinters, and the window had been restored and recoated with mirrored tint.
It looked like the Carlo’s of old, just as I’d intended.
I walked inside and saw a dozen men milling around as Giacobbe’s daughters scrubbed the floors.
“You lazy fucks are just standing around and not helping out?” I said.
The men laughed, and I smiled, knowing that I shouldn’t be surprised.
This was a good group, strong, well trained, but manual labor, unless it involved removal of evidence, was not a forte of any of the men.
“You know why we’re here?” I said, looking at each man for a moment before moving to the next.
“The Genovese,” Alessandro, one of the older members of the Moretti family said.
“Yes, so stay on your toes and make sure your crews are in order. We don’t know what other shit they’re going to pull,” I said.
“We’ll be ready for it,” Alessandro said.
“I know,” I responded.
The men nodded and after a few more minutes of conversation, they started to disperse.
“Not even going to pick up a fucking broom, huh?” I said to Alessandro as he headed toward the door.
He smacked me on the shoulder with a huge grin on his face. “See you later, Nico.”
Then he joined the crowd of men as they filed out of Carlo’s .
“There’s still a lot to do here,” I said.
Enzo nodded. “Yeah, but Giacobbe assures us to be done by tomorrow at the latest.”
“Any word from Don Carlo this morning?” I asked.
“You know he only calls you,” Enzo said.
It was true, and yet another example of how detached the boss was. If things were as they should have been, it would’ve been him talking to the assembled men.
At this point, none of them even bothered to ask anymore.
We all knew what the boss focused on—and what he didn’t.
And somehow—I wasn’t entirely sure how it happened—but the men had started to look to me for direction, and I felt duty-bound to give it.
It was the only way to hold this together, and I had lost too much for this family to fail.
“You set something up with the Genovese?” I asked Enzo.
He nodded. “Federico wants to have lunch at Bocca ,” he said.
I let out a low whistle. “ Bocca ? I’m impressed.”
Enzo rolled his eyes. “No the fuck you’re not. You think he’s being a pretentious dick just like I do.”
“Yeah, or he’s assuming that I want to splatter his brains all over the beautiful tableware at Bocca ,” I said.
“He doesn’t know you very well,” Enzo said.
“No. But he will. Let’s go,” I said.
We left and headed to the meeting with the Genovese.