7. Old Bones
Chapter 7
Old Bones
Giordano
I punch the guy one more time in the gut and shake my hand out. The punches are beginning to wear on me. I’m not as young as I used to be doing this type of shit.
“I need you to tell me everything.”
“I did, Don Marzano.”
“ Bugiardo .” I spit on his shoe and then punch him in the nose. There’s a particular type of crunching bones underneath my fist—his crunch. Though, I’m sure at this rate it’ll be my crunch soon enough.
I smirk while he’s groaning beneath me. “Let’s try this again, shall we? You’re leaving information out. What do you know?”
He spits blood out as more blood trickles down from his now broken nose. “Fuck—you.”
“Suit yourself.” I crack my neck and snap my fingers. Two of my muscle men come up from behind me and take care of the problem. He isn’t going to speak to me? They are going to deal with it. I’ll find out about the Irish Mob some other way.
I step over to the sink and rinse the blood off my hands scrubbing them with soap. Can’t go home to my Antonella in this condition, now can I ?
“You out of here?” Xander asks. I dry my hands off with a towel. He grumbles, “It’s early.”
“Uh-huh.” I grunt and pull my phone out, sending a text to my new roommate .
Hope you have those papers filled out. Wait outside. I’m taking you to the leasing office. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.
“Yeah, gotta help her out with uh… something,” I say, keeping it vague.
“You sure are down bad for her already, aren’t you?” He pulls a blade out from his pocket, inspecting the sharpness, I assume.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never seen you drop work this fast or help anyone who isn’t family.”
“Everything about her…” I trail.
He raises his hand up and gives me a smug smirk. “I get it.”
Maybe it’s silly. After all, I want what I want. And I get what I want. Meeting her by chance isn’t something I’m going to let slip right through my fingers easily.
He walks over to the beaten-up guy behind me. His turn to take over.
“What do you want?” the man asks.
“I’m going to make you wish you were dead ,” Xander’s voice becomes quiet.
“I already told you everything, and—” A blood curdling scream bounces off the walls, ringing in my ears.
My phone vibrates in my pocket while I’m walking out of the soundproof cells inside our company storage warehouse. I pull it out, catching myself smiling at the name flashing brightly on the screen.
Moglie
Okay.
I pull up to the café and spot her sitting at one of the tables, waiting—as requested.
Brava ragazza.
“Bye,” her voice is quiet.
That smile of hers is contagious. I can’t help but smile back at her as she walks up to the opened passenger window.
“Hop in, amore.” I pat the black leather passenger seat.
“Okay.” She sounds distant. Nervous . She sits in the seat, buckling the seat belt. Her gaze softens when her eyes fall upon mine. “Hmm… you look exhausted. Oh! I have an uncle. Zio Vito, he works in sales for something… I’m not sure. He never mentioned what he sold.” She taps her chin. “Or if he did, I can’t recall.”
An uncle Vito who works in sales?
Cazzo .
“Well, I had an uncle Vito.” Her expression fades into a frown. “He passed away recently. Practically worked himself to death .”
Cazzo, again.
My breathing stops, and all the color drains immediately from my face. I swear if we end up being cousins—by some horrible act of God—I have no idea what I’ll do. Move to the Alabama? We couldn’t be closely related. She’d be in the famiglia occupation . We’d know about her.
There’s no way.
I choke on air, trying to form a coherent sentence. “What did he—what did he die from?” Please don’t say car accident or murder. Please .
“Oh, it was horrible ! A heart attack, right in the middle of the kitchen floor at my nonna’s house. He was so stressed he just— boom —dropped dead in front of everyone during Christmas dinner. Moral of my story, don’t work yourself too hard.” Her eyes dart between my hands and face, expression remaining all the same. “Also, you should put some lotion on your hands, looks like it hurts. I have a good cream back at the house.”
A deep breath of relief, in and out. Thank God we’re not related. I clear my throat. “I’m sorry for your loss, amore. I’ll try to work less if it concerns you.” I need to shift the topic of conversation, fast. “Do you have that leasing paperwork filled out and with you?”
“Sì.” She smiles softly, sliding the leasing papers out of her purse.
“We’re going to hand those in today.”
“I was planning on going after my shift ended, but when you suggested to come with—” She takes a deep breath in. “I’m sure he would try something if I was alone… thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me, amore. I’ll stand behind you and protect you. Or if you want I’ll do it for you.”
“I can do it.” She sticks her nose up in the air.
That’s my girl.
I clear my throat. “Another thing, there’s no need to worry about packing up. I sent movers to do the job for us. They should be done already by now.”
“Y-you did?” Her eyes go round with a mixture of both shock and fear. Perché?
“Don’t worry, they’re strictly professional. Anything…” I gulp and stop myself mid-sentence. Thinking about her doing anything sexual —and now the picture will never leave my mind.
It’s permanently ingrained.
I give her a crooked grin. Her lips suck in and pop out. How would those juicy lips look around my cock?
She groans, staring directly at the dashboard. “This has become awkward .”
Only because I’d love to find out if the image in my mind matches the real beauty sitting next to me.
However, I don’t say what’s exactly on my mind, purely out of respect for our growing friendship. Instead, I say, “Let’s focus on handing in these lease-ending papers and move you out of there forever.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. She’s still refusing to make eye contact—meaning one thing—she does have something she doesn’t want anyone to find…
Interesting .
“Well, well, Antonella. This is quite the disappointment.” The idiot in front of me sighs—an expression of manipulation. Or attempted manipulation. He gives me the up and down once-over. Am I threatened?
Hell no.
He’s a scrawny little thing with black, straggly-looking greasy hair. A nobody. No wonder Antonella refused his advances. His vibe oozes predator.
I stand behind her like a scary bodyguard. I could’ve easily handled all this mess for her, however, she insists on handling it herself. And I’ll be damned if I wasn’t going to be there right behind her to protect her. I’m already feeling some sort of possessiveness when it comes to her.
No one touches her. Looks at her. Hurts her.
Oh, I’m fucked.
“I’m ending my lease. And that’s final,” she speaks up, a little bit more confident than the first time.
You go, amore. Tell this stronzo off.
“It won’t be here when you need it again. Don’t expect to be able to come crawling back.” Kevin grunts. “Unless of course…” He stops mid-sentence as I glare at him. Hard.
How dare he .
She’ll never need anyone else ever again if I have anything to say about it.
“Fuck you, Kevin.” She huffs, turning to leave the leasing office. She flings the door wide open, slamming it against the wall, causing some dust to come falling down from the ceiling.
Yeah, fuck you Kevin.
I follow closely behind her, but pivot once I overhear him mutter words under his breath. Something along the lines of… whore .
I peek over toward the doorway, hoping to find she’s no longer in the room with us. I spot her standing next to the door. She’s out in the hall, waiting for me. Good . I don’t want her hearing this next part. “I’ll be a moment,” I whisper to her.
“Okay,” she whispers back.
I close the door quietly and pivot swiftly to face the man . Rat is more like it. “Want to repeat that?” my voice lowers into a husky growl as I step closer to him.
His eyes widen as I’m mere inches away from him. He gulps. What a coward. I haven’t even threatened him yet.
“N-nope.”
“That’s what I thought. Now, if you ever come as close to speaking her name again… you’ll be hearing from me. Capisce ? You’re lucky I don’t put you away for sexual harassment. I have a lawyer on speed-dial. A good one. He’ll get your ass hauled into federal prison for a crime you didn’t even commit.”
“U-uh…” His eyes dart back and forth between the door and I.
“Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere.” I shake my head at the pathetic man—cowering behind his busted ass desk. There’s trash scattered all across the floor. Disgusting. I can’t hold back the scowl on my face any longer. “You ought to clean the mess up. There’s a rat in here.”
Finished with business, I turn and walk through the door to my lovely lady, patiently waiting outside for me .
“The movers are already at the house with your stuff. Would you prefer them to unpack it all? Or take it to your room and you unpack it yourself?”
“Have them take it to the room, please.” A look of horror washes over her face as she bites down on her bottom lip.
What can she possibly have she doesn’t want others to find? A murder weapon? Probably not. I’m not sure why my mind goes directly to murder—she doesn’t seem the type to have some sort of hidden agenda. Or maybe she does.
What if the whole time when we ran into Cillian, she pretended to not know who he was? I shift my attention outside of my own mind, and back on the woman before me.
“I’ll tell them.” I pull out my phone and shoot the movers a text. “Would you like me to help, amore?”
“No!” Her cheeks blush a perfect shade of rose.
Oh shit. It’s a sex toy, isn’t it? Naughty, naughty girl.??
“Well, should you change your mind, I’ll be around the house.” I chuckle. She immediately faces the window, more than likely embarrassed. She shouldn’t be. What kind of toy is it? She comes off as the discreet, small vibrator type girl.
Stop thinking about it.
I grip harder around the steering wheel, practically white knuckling it. Now, I desperately want to know what she looks like when she has an orgasm.
Antonella walks up the stairs and down the hall to her suite without another word. Said something along the lines of not wanting to procrastinate putting away her things. I admire that about her.
I click on Xander’s contact and hit the call button.
“Pronto,” he mutters.
“Is it done?” My entire face contorts while walking down the hall to my suite.
“Of course.” He laughs .
“Did you manage to get information first?” I slam the door shut behind me and lock it.
My bedroom’s the complete opposite of Antonella’s. My room’s dark and moody. The carpet’s a light grey, and the bed’s a four-poster canopy bed with a black tulle netting.
The comforter’s black and plush, and sheets are a high thread-count black silk. I have floor-to-ceiling windows which show the view of the lake on one side, and the swimming pool on the other. At night time, the curtains come down with a click of a button on the remote.
A gas fireplace is in the middle of the wall, lined with bookshelves filled with volumes and first editions I’ve collected over the years. It’s my guilty pleasure— collecting . And reading the collection.
“Così così.” He snorts.
My grip tightens around the phone. “What do you mean?”
“He gave a name.”
“What name?”
“Cillian O’Duinn.”
“Why is he the only name?” I snarl through my gritted teeth.
“Because he’s the only one who’s important. We got it. He’s their leader. He’s in charge already. Aisling stepped down and handed it all to him. Without anyone knowing. He’s been the one behind every single attack.”
A devious grin spreads across my face. Of course. My grip on the phone tenses once again as I inhale sharply through my nose. “Fuck.”
“We’ll get him. See you at Sunday dinner?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I release the death grip I have on my phone as I end the call.
Cillian fucking O’Duinn .
I run my fingers through my messy hair, walking toward the bathroom to finally take a shower. If I would’ve known this when I ran into him… Shit.
Antonella .