Chapter 17 #2
Her breathing has remained steady ever since I opened my eyes, slow and even, so I know she’s still asleep, which is perfect.
Stealthy exits are my specialty. I’ve woken up more times than I can count after a night of heavy drinking, only to find myself in some less-than-ideal situation, lying next to someone whose name I don’t even remember.
Last night, I had one drink with dinner. No blackout, no regrets. And Lucia Rossi—or should I say, Lucia De Luca—isn’t like any of the others from my past.
She towers above them all. But if I’m going to keep myself out of precarious situations like this one, then I’m going to have to rely on some old tactics.
I slowly lift my arm, which is currently anchored around her tiny waist, and carefully lift the covers so the fabric doesn’t rustle too loudly. Her breathing doesn’t change.
One leg slips out, then the other. I shift my weight to the edge of the mattress, easing myself up inch by inch, bracing with my hands so the bed doesn’t creak beneath me. I move like a thief. Silent, calculated, and rehearsed.
Her face remains turned towards the pillow. Her lips are slightly parted, and her long, dark hair drapes across the sheets like spilled ink.
I pause for just a second longer than I should, letting my eyes linger on her. She’s peaceful, unaware, and far too beautiful for her own good. I rise to my feet and begin the quiet retreat, one agonising step at a time.
I don’t stop until I’m safely out of the room. It’s only once the door clicks softly shut behind me that I finally let myself breathe again.
I head straight for the shower, because if I don’t get rid of this boner, I’m afraid I’ll be walking around with it all day.
I slip out the back door without being noticed. As soon as Killer spots me, he bolts across the backyard like a missile.
“Morning, boy,” I say, crouching down as he barrels into me, tail wagging like he’s been waiting for this moment all morning.
I ruffle the fur at the nape of his neck, and he leans into it, tongue lolling, eyes bright with that uncomplicated kind of joy only dogs seem to master.
For a moment, everything feels simple again.
I miss that feeling. I miss the way things used to be before life got so damn complicated. Before it turned into something I barely recognise.
After giving Killer the attention he deserves, I pull my phone from my pocket and scroll for Dante’s number. I need to check in. I miss my best friend more than I care to admit.
This morning, I lingered in the shower longer than necessary, only stepping out when the water turned cold. I was stalling, and thankfully, it paid off. By the time I walked back into my room, towel slung low on my hips, Lucia was already gone.
Once I got dressed, I could hear her moving around in the kitchen. That’s when I came out here.
I’ll have to face her eventually, sooner rather than later if I plan on eating. I’ll head back inside once I’ve spoken to Dante.
I click on his number, and he picks up after a few rings. “Romeo,” he says.
“Hey.”
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, just thought I’d check in. I didn’t get to speak to you yesterday.”
“I was going to call you, but I didn’t get home until late.”
“Business or pleasure?” I find myself asking as my stomach churns.
“I got one of the guys to make that call to that number on the flyer.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “And?”
“The dumb fuck fell right into our hands.”
“You got one of them?”
“Two, actually.”
“Fuck,” I mutter as my pulse kicks up. “Did anything come of it?”
“Give me a second. I’ll call you back on a burner phone.”
When the line goes dead, I start pacing back and forth across the yard, my mind spinning. My brain’s gone into overdrive, running through every possibility, every worst-case scenario, but not for the reasons you may think.
Since I became the underboss of the Famiglia, I’ve been a part of every move Dante’s made. Every decision, every deal, every threat that needed to be neutralised. I’m not used to being left in the dark, and I don’t like how it feels. Not one bit.
Is there a reason I’m only finding out about this now? Does he no longer trust me after I took Lucia out of the house without his permission? Or am I reading too much into this?
I’m pulled from my thoughts when my phone starts to ring. “Hey,” I say after accepting the call and bringing it to my ear. “So, what’s going on?”
“One of them wouldn’t budge; he was a tough motherfucker. Nothing we did could break him. When I finally gave up and ended him, the second guy sang like a canary … after a little prodding, of course.”
“Can I ask why I’m only hearing about this now? Why I wasn’t involved in the planning?”
I hear him sigh on the other end of the line. “We discussed calling the number on the flyer.”
“Yeah, I know, but that was the last I heard of it.”
“I didn’t leave you out intentionally. We made the call, and it all snowballed from there. It’s not like you could’ve come. You have a far more important job to do right there. The most important job. You’re the only man I completely trust to keep my wife’s sister out of harm’s way.”
I let his words settle in, and I can’t decide if I should be grateful or furious. There’s a tightness in my chest I can’t explain, part pride, part resentment, part something I don’t want to name.
“What info did you get? Are we any closer to catching Salvatori?”
“Not exactly, but at least we’ve got something to go on now. Those fuckers have eluded us at every turn.”
“I know,” I growl in reply.
“We lured them to one of the other safe houses, on the pretence that we had information on Lucia’s whereabouts. When they got there, we ambushed them. It’s a shame he sent two of his guys to do his dirty work instead of coming himself. But I expected as much.”
“If I ever get my hands on that—”
“I know,” he cuts in, his voice low but steady.
“I’ll be right there beside you.” A brief silence follows before he continues.
“The one that cracked didn’t know everything, but he gave us a few solid leads.
Salvatori’s been moving smart, no phones, no digital footprint, nothing traceable.
But he mentioned the jet they used to fly into the country.
It landed at a private airstrip just outside West Wyalong. About 155 kays from here.”
I stiffen, knuckles whitening around the phone. “No wonder we’ve found nothing yet. We’ve been concentrating locally.”
“Yeah. Salvatori’s got a contact at the airstrip, some low-profile piece of shit who works there.
Couldn’t get a name, but he’s dirty. The kind of guy who doesn’t ask questions as long as he’s getting paid.
The place is owned and run through the Bland Shire Council, so it could be anyone.
Ground crew, logistics, maybe even someone in admin. ”
“And Lucia?”
“If they get her—which they won’t—they plan to use the same route to smuggle her out. No customs. No paper trail. There’s talk about moving her onto a container ship out of Port Kembla and shipping her straight back to Sicily.”
My jaw tightens. “They need to get their filthy fucking hands on her first.”
“Exactly.” His voice hardens. “That’s where we still have the advantage. Right now, they’re operating blind. They know we have her stashed somewhere. That buys us time.”
“Any talk about their location?”
“Yeah, they’re staying somewhere near the airstrip. Somewhere Isolated. A short-term rental under a fake name. I sent a few guys down there early this morning to scout it out.”
“And the vehicle?”
“We traced the Hilux they turned up in. It was reported stolen from Forbes about a week ago. The only thing we found inside it was a folded slip of paper tucked under the passenger seat.”
“What was on it?” I ask, already dreading the answer.
“The safe house address.”
“Fuck.” I run a hand through my hair, heart thudding harder now. “What about their phones? Anything?”
“Burners. Both of them. Cheap, prepaid junk.”
“Can you keep me updated if anything else comes up?” I grumble.
He blows out a long breath before replying. “Like I said, it all happened quickly, and I was going to call you last night, but it was late when I got home. Stop acting like a chick and getting all butthurt over nothing.”
“I’m not acting like a chick.”
He chuckles down the line, smug and unbothered. “You are. Maybe I need to send someone over to watch Lucia for a few hours so you can go and get yourself laid. It’s been a while. You’re probably seconds away from dry humping your pillow.”
“Fuck off.”
“See? Exactly my point.”
I roll my eyes as I begin pacing again. “This isn’t about getting laid. It’s about not being kept in the dark. I need to know what’s happening, especially when it concerns her.”
His tone shifts, less teasing and more grounded. “And you do know. I’m telling you everything I’ve got as soon as I get it. You’re not out of the loop. You’re on the front line. You’re the one standing between her and them.”
I exhale slowly, the edge still there, but it’s dulling slightly.
“Then don’t make calls without me. Not about her.”
“Fair enough,” he says, more serious now. “How is Lucia?”
Usually, that question wouldn’t bother me, but with everything that happened between us yesterday, it hits like a swift kick to the nuts.
Here I am getting pissed about him keeping me in the dark, yet I married his sister-in-law yesterday, and he doesn’t have a fucking clue.
I swallow the bitterness creeping up my throat, trying to steady my voice. “She’s ... managing.”