Chapter 33
33
D ante
“Any sign of Santini?” I ask Rocco, who sits next to me in the unmarked sedan.
We watch a car leave the parking lot of Jaq’s, a rundown diner in a sketchy area of town where Gia said Ross Santini conducts his business. Only a few patrons have gone to Jaq’s, and the server who enjoyed a cigarette outside is back at work.
My men are in a couple of cars scattered on the back of Jaq’s, not to make their presence obvious. I’m wearing a small wire device, so if I give them the go-ahead, they’ll shoot Ross. A pleasure I’d like to have myself.
Will Ross show up? Unlikely. If Ross Santini is smart, he’s not showing his face. He knows he’s skating on thin ice, having lost three of his family members. But I’m on thin ice, too—Gia and I have brought a lot of trouble to my family, and if we keep killing the Santinis, this war will only worsen.
Ross is the head, though. If he goes down, it’ll be easier to dismantle the rest. Will it be seamless? No. Sometimes, disgruntled members of the mafia go unhinged when their boss is killed—especially by the enemy. A thrill runs down my spine. The consistent trait about the Santinis is they haven’t got much to lose. A vulnerability but also a dangerous advantage.
I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. I have a lot to lose. Gia, AJ, my family. Mostly, I need to secure Gia and AJ’s future. Nothing can happen to them.
Rocco taps my shoulder, interrupting my thoughts. He straightens on his seat and cocks his head to the left. “Look. On your side.”
I turn my head, and my gut clenches. A limo has entered the parking lot and slowly approaches us. I touch my gun resting on my lap. One good shot, and Ross is out.
But if I know that, he knows it too. Why is he willingly coming to us?
I’ve never seen any of them in a limo before. What a different approach. What’s he doing?
I speak, confident that my team will hear me due to the small device I have in my ear. “Everyone be ready. Target showed up.”
“Ten-four,” says my bodyguard on the other end of the line.
I touch my gun, my finger outlining the trigger with reliable familiarity.
Swiftly, the back window of the limo comes down, and they park it next to us. Ross Santini's face comes into view. I see him cleaning his sunglasses with a small piece of cloth, a smile tugging at his mouth.
I lift my gun and don’t hesitate to point it at him. Swirls of white streak in his hair, and he nods at me, unfazed. I glance behind his fit frame but don’t see anyone else in the limo—which doesn’t mean it’s empty.
He sets his sunglasses on his lap and slowly lifts his hands. “We’re due a chat.”
“It’s too late for a chat,” I say between gritted teeth, keeping my gun trained on him.
“I disagree. Would I show up unarmed if I thought so?”
“What do you want?” Rocco asks, leaning closer.
“You’ve killed three people from my family. My son, most importantly.”
A lump lodges in my throat. I understand why he’s pissed at me—I can’t even imagine what I would do to someone if they hurt AJ. When I killed his son, I wasn’t a father yet.
But I can’t get soft. I’ve killed many people—whether they were shitty or not. Why would this be any different? “I’m sorry about your son. That one was accidental.”
An emotion crosses his eyes. He brings his hands down to his lap. I pay close attention to ensure he won’t reach for a gun or make a hand gesture that will get us killed. Tension stretches my shoulder blades to the maximum.
“Nevertheless, I dreamed about several ways to end you. To cut off your balls and cook them into a soup and serve them to you,” he says.
“You didn’t succeed.” I should just shoot the bastard, but the months-long impasse comes to a head—giving him a few last words shows a measure of respect.
“I’m here because I want us to talk. To end this,” he says, his expression neutral.
“You’re joking,” Rocco says what I’m thinking.
What’s up Santini’s sleeve? What does he want from us? “No,” I say.
“How can we? Too much blood has been spilled,” Rocco says.
“I have a small army working for me, and they’re dangerously loyal. They’re not as numerous as the Gallos, but I assure you, if you kill me now, this shitshow won’t end. Actually, without me as the head to keep them on a leash, it would get much worse,” he says, his every word hitting me like bricks.
“What’s on your mind?” I lower my gun, my finger trained on the trigger.
“I propose a truce. You don’t kill my people, and I won’t kill yours,” he says casually, like we’re talking about restaurant options for future dinner plans.
Possibilities play in my head like an arcade game, overstimulating me. Sure, a truce wouldn’t be such a bad idea in a perfect world. I could move on and not worry about possible retaliation from his people.
When I killed his son, I didn’t have a baby or the love of my life. AJ’s mom was pregnant, but I didn’t know what fatherhood meant yet—the amount of love and protection I could feel for someone. Now that I can offer it to AJ and Gia, it is my priority.
But I’m still not convinced. Seems too easy , a cynical part of me alerts.
I wave him off. “You’re not serious.”
“I am. I can’t run and hide anymore, and we both have better things to do with our time than play cat and mouse.”
My throat tightens. He has a point. I share a glance with Rocco, who tilts his head to encourage me to keep talking. Maybe we’re buying time before we kill the motherfucker. But maybe he has a good deal for us. “What kind of guarantee do I have that’ll happen?”
“You marry my niece.” He hands me a picture of an attractive young woman. “We’ll join forces.”
I look at the picture and place it on the middle console. Of course, there’s a catch. “I can’t do it. I’m already engaged to someone else.” Someone who also needs to be part of this deal—to have immunity. Maybe I can offer him something else? “Besides, business-wise, you’re not as profitable or big as we are. My brother Massimo married a Montefiore, and we’ve done business with them.”
“I’m not suggesting we share checking accounts overseas. We have different business ethics, anyway. All I want is to put an end to this bloodbath, and the only way to ensure it is to become family.”
I’m not entirely sure Ross means what he says. Of course, if we join families, he’ll benefit even if we don’t do business directly. A strong connection to our family can undoubtedly elevate the Santinis.
I exchange a sideways glance with Rocco, who picks the picture from the console and studies it.
“Think about it,” Ross insists.
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“This isn’t about Gia, is it?” Ross asks, tilting his head.
I can imagine that forgiving Gia is a harder pill to swallow for him. She killed two of his family members, losers that they were. His people know the truth—and they may be out for blood.
I swallow. Fuck. Of course, he’d mention her.
“I’ll do it,” Rocco says, leaning so close that another inch and he’ll be on my fucking lap. “I’ll marry your niece.”
A jolt of surprise runs through me. Rocco has always been impulsive and a bit carefree. But marriage?
“What?” I shake my head, unsure I heard him correctly.
Rocco hops from one woman to the next and never offers a steady relationship to any of them. Going from wilding as a single dude to marrying a mobster’s family member is a giant leap.
“Rocco, I get you’re trying to help, bro, but that’s a bad idea. A permanent idea.”
Rocco strokes his beard and shoots me a reassuring look. What the hell is he doing? “Trust me. The last time I had an idea you disagreed with, I brought Gia into your life. And look how well that went for you.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, aware that Santini is observing us. Sure, that impulsive idea of Rocco’s worked, but to marry as a business arrangement? “Rocco, think about it.”
Rocco lifts his hand to keep me from talking and stares at Santini. I can feel the determination oozing from him, the flick of fire in his eyes. There’s no talking him off the ledge when he's like this.
“I’ll marry her and be a good husband. But that means you bury the past, including what Gia Santini has done. She’s part of our family now,” Rocco says to Santini.
Santini lifts an eyebrow, and his gaze ping pongs between me and Rocco, probably thinking over his options. “Ah. I see.”
Santini will have a lot to explain to his people, but they’ll certainly understand the advantages of this marriage. And having him off Gia and AJ’s back is my priority. While I’d have preferred to kill him to secure their safety, the marriage idea is growing on me.
“Rocco, you don’t have to do this,” I tell him, my voice low.
“I want to,” he says. “It’s not up for discussion.”
A second or two goes by.
“Well then…” Santini smiles, his eyes glimmering. “Let’s do it.”