Chapter 12 Sandro
Good. Professional. Exactly what I paid him for.
Emilio was still asleep, sprawled across my chest like he belonged there. His breathing was deep and even, finally relaxed after the adrenaline crash of last night. I'd felt the moment exhaustion won—his body going heavy against mine, tension draining away as sleep pulled him under.
I should let him rest. He'd earned it after the night he'd had.
But I had work to do.
I extracted myself carefully and headed to the kitchen. Coffee first. Then calls. Then dealing with whatever fallout came from the Costellos' monumentally stupid decision to threaten my attorney.
The coffee maker was one of those expensive Italian machines that required actual skill to operate. I'd learned years ago that good coffee was worth the effort. Emilio would need caffeine when he woke up. Strong and black, probably. He struck me as the type who took coffee seriously.
While the espresso pulled, I called Marcus.
"Status," I said when he answered.
"Two men stationed across from Mr. Rossi's building.
Unmarked vehicle. They've got eyes on all entrances and exits.
Nobody gets in or out without us knowing.
" Marcus's voice was crisp despite the early hour.
Former military. He didn't need sleep like normal people.
"I've also got footage from last night. Man in his thirties, medium build, wearing a baseball cap.
Kept his face down, avoided cameras, but we got partial plates on his vehicle. "
"Send everything to Vincent." My investigator. The one who'd been with me since Chicago, who knew exactly how I handled people who threatened what was mine. "Tell him I want a name by noon."
"Already done. He's running the plates now."
"Good. When we have an identity, bring him to the warehouse. Quietly. I'll handle the rest personally." I poured the espresso into two small cups. "And Marcus? I want to know if anyone even looks at Emilio's building wrong. If a fucking pigeon lands on his fire escape, I want to hear about it."
"Understood. We're watching everything."
I hung up and started making calls. Matteo first, because he'd want to know about the escalation. Then Elio, because security was his domain and he needed to coordinate with Marcus. Then Luca, updating him on the situation in case the Costellos tried anything with our legitimate operations.
By the time Emilio emerged from the bedroom forty minutes later, I'd mobilized half my organization and consumed enough espresso to fuel a small army.
He looked rumpled and beautiful. Hair sticking up in about six different directions. My shirt from last night hanging loose on his frame. Bare feet padding across hardwood that was probably cold but he didn't seem to notice.
"What time is it?" His voice was rough with sleep.
"Almost seven. Coffee's ready." I pushed one of the cups across the counter toward him. "Figured you'd need it."
He picked it up and drank without bothering to check the temperature first. Winced slightly because it was still hot, but kept drinking anyway. Definitely took his coffee seriously.
"Have you slept at all?" he asked, eyeing the phone I was still holding.
"I'll sleep later. Right now I'm making sure you're protected." I set down the phone. Watched him process that statement. "I've got two men watching your building. My investigator's tracking down whoever delivered that threat. When we find them, I'll handle it personally."
"Handle it how?" Wary now. Like he was starting to understand what being under my protection actually meant.
"However I need to." I kept my voice neutral. Matter-of-fact. "They threatened you. That has consequences."
"Sandro—"
"Don't." I held up a hand. "Don't ask me not to retaliate. Don't ask me to be reasonable. Someone came to your home and threatened your life because you're defending me. That's not something I forgive. That's not something I let slide."
He set down his coffee cup with deliberate care. "So what, you're just going to make unilateral decisions about my safety? About how to handle threats against me? Without consulting me at all?"
"Yes." No hesitation. "That's exactly what I'm going to do."
"That's not how this works. You don't get to just—"
"I do get to. You're here, in my apartment, under my protection, because someone threatened your life.
That makes you my responsibility. That makes you mine to protect.
" I moved around the counter until I was standing in front of him.
Close enough to see the anger in his eyes.
"And I protect what's mine, Emilio. By any means necessary. "
"I'm not your property." But his voice wavered slightly. Like he was trying to convince himself as much as me.
"After the past three days?" I tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet my eyes. "After you've been in my bed twice? After you've let me inside you, let me claim you, let me mark you in ways that mean you'll think of me every time you move today? We both know that's not entirely true anymore."
The statement hung between us. Charged with truth neither of us wanted to acknowledge out loud but both of us felt viscerally.
His pupils dilated. His breath caught. And I knew I was right.
He was mine. Completely. He just needed time to accept it.
Before either of us could push the conversation further, his phone rang. The ringtone he'd set for work calls—something classical and pretentious that probably had significance I didn't understand.
He pulled away from me and answered. "Richard? What's—" His face went white. "What do you mean bomb squad? I'll be right there—no, don't—yes, I understand. I'll stay where I am."
He lowered the phone slowly. Stared at it like it had betrayed him.
"What happened?" I asked, though I could guess.
"Security found a suspicious package addressed to me at the office. The bomb squad's there now. Richard says—" His voice broke slightly. "He says it's serious. They evacuated the entire floor."
I took the phone from his shaking hand and hit redial. Richard answered on the first ring.
"Vitale here," I said. "What's the actual situation?"
"The package is addressed to Emilio Rossi.
Hand-delivered to our mailroom this morning.
Security flagged it because the return address doesn't exist and it was marked 'personal and confidential.
'" Richard's voice was steady but I heard the underlying stress.
"NYPD bomb squad is examining it now. They said it could be nothing.
Or it could be something very dangerous. "
"Cooperate with them fully. Give them whatever they need. But do not—and I'm very clear about this—do not give them Emilio's current location. As far as anyone knows, he's working from home today."
"Understood. I'll keep you informed."
I hung up and turned to find Emilio sinking onto the couch. All the fight had drained out of him. He looked young and scared and completely overwhelmed.
I sat beside him. Close enough that our shoulders touched. Solid contact to ground him.
"They're escalating," he said quietly. "Last night was a warning. This morning is—"
"This morning is them being desperate." I pulled him against my side.
Felt him resist for maybe two seconds before giving in.
"The Costellos are losing. They know it.
So they're trying anything they can think of to force us into a corner.
Threats. Bombs. Whatever creates enough fear to make you walk away. "
"Maybe I should. Walk away, I mean." He wasn't looking at me. "If I withdrew from the case, they'd have no reason to target me. You could get another attorney. Someone who isn't a liability."
"No." The word came out harder than I'd intended. I turned him to face me. "You're not withdrawing. You're not walking away. You're not leaving me to fight this alone."
"I'm not suggesting you fight alone. I'm suggesting you find someone who won't get bomb threats for defending you."
"I don't want someone else. I want you." I cupped his face between my hands.
"I want your brilliant mind. Your ethical backbone.
Your ability to see through bullshit and cut straight to what matters.
I want you in my court and in my bed and in my life.
So no, you're not withdrawing. You're staying exactly where you are. "
"And if they follow through? If that package is actually dangerous? If they—"
"Then I'll burn their entire organization to the ground and salt the earth where it stood.
" I wasn't exaggerating. Wasn't being dramatic.
Just stating facts. "I will destroy everyone who had anything to do with threatening you.
I will make sure the Costellos understand that touching you was the worst mistake they ever made. "
He stared at me. "You mean that."
"Every word." I kissed him. Hard and claiming. "You're under my protection now. That means something in my world. That means anyone who hurts you answers to me. And I don't forgive. I don't forget. I don't show mercy to people who threaten what's mine."
His phone rang again. Richard, probably with updates. I let Emilio answer this time but kept my arm around his shoulders. Anchoring him.
"Yes?" Emilio's voice was steadier now. "I understand. Thank you for letting me know."
He hung up and turned to me. "It was a hoax. No explosives. Just a box filled with shredded newspaper and another printed note. 'Last warning' it said."
"Last warning." I pulled out my phone and called Vincent. "You have a name yet?"
"Just came through. Angelo Moretti. Low-level enforcer for the Costellos. Two priors for assault, one for extortion. Address in Queens." Vincent rattled off details. "You want me to grab him?"
"No. I want you to watch him. Follow him. Find out who he's reporting to. Then we grab everyone involved in the chain of command." I paused. "And Vincent? When we bring them in, I want it quiet. No witnesses. No evidence. Nothing that comes back to us."
"Understood. I'll call when we're ready to move."