Chapter 51
Whatever I expected when I arrived at the Spataro mansion out in Long Island, it wasn’t this. I’ve got Dex as back up outside like we are preparing for war, but the man standing in front of me and Sasha is barely worthy of the term. He’s dwarfed by the desk in front of him, and his suit hangs off his shoulders like a shopping bag. He’s a boy playing dress-up.
He stands as we enter the room, then reaches over to shake my hand. His grip is surprisingly firm, and he holds eye contact like this is a regular business meeting. “Dante Spataro. I believe you know who my father is, but I’d like to assure you both it has no connection with Nadia’s presence in this house.”
He waves the two of us to a pair of leather armchairs in front of the desk, which sits on a raised plinth to give the man behind it the advantage of height. I’ve heard that Vincenzo Spataro is short, but his son probably won’t need a raised desk to tower over his guests once he grows into his suit.
Looking around the room, I wonder if the Spataro family knew Nadia was my daughter before I did and planted their kid in Nadia’s school.
My eyes slide over to Sasha, who nods, compressing his lips in an effort to keep a straight face. The rush of amusement we’re feeling is dangerous when we don’t really know what’s going on in this room. This boy may not be a threat to us, but his father is, and he’s still got a hold of Nadia.
Standing in front of the desk, I nod at him and study his body language. “So, you’re the man who has kidnapped my daughter.”
He looks surprisingly at ease, but there’s a sprinkling of acne on his face and although his hair is dark, there’s no five o’clock shadow on his jaw. If he’s shaving, he doesn’t have much of a beard.
“She hasn’t been kidnapped.” He waves to a pair of mahogany chairs that stand in front of the huge desk. “Please. Take a seat. Let’s discuss this in a civilized manner.”
Sasha looks over at me, and I can see he’s biting back a smile. We both sit down and neither of us speak.
“Can I offer either of you a drink?” The boy points to a tumbler of cognac—something both the Italians and the Russians like to drink. “It’s a little early in the day for me, but if the two of you would like a drink, I’ll join you.”
“Thank you. But no.” I give him a cold smile. “I’d like to see Nadia before we talk about anything else. Proof of life, as they say.”
“Of course. How inconsiderate of me.” He picks up his phone and puts it to his ear. “Danni, can the two of you come downstairs? Nadia’s dad is here.”
I hear giggling, followed by the sound of footsteps overhead.
“They’ll be right down. I overheard Nadia saying she was planning to go missing to worry you. She and Danni concocted a plan to vanish on the streets of New York for a couple of days.” He looks over at the door as if he’s waiting for them to emerge. “I hope you’ll forgive me. I took the liberty of both keeping them safe and arranging a meeting with you. I didn’t fancy the idea of two ten-year-olds roaming Manhattan, and I thought this might be a more effective way of giving you a scare.”
He gives me a sly grin, but he’s saved from an angry retort by the arrival of the two girls in question.
Nadia, sporting a pair of long braids wound around her head and a long, flowing black dress that makes her look like a nineteenth-century Russian peasant, follows behind a girl dressed head to toe in bubblegum pink.
“Did it work, Dante?” Danni says. “Was he scared? Is he moving back home?” She rubs her hands together gleefully. Behind her, my daughter looks sheepish and a little frightened.
“Sorry, Dad,” she says in a small voice. “I only wanted to see you.”
Next to me, Sasha bites back a snort of laughter.
“Girls, I’m sure that Nadia’s father will be happy to take her back to her mother when we’ve finished our discussions,” Dante says. “Work on your video or finish whatever you’re doing, and we’ll call you when it’s time to go.”
“Aww,” Danni groans. “Can’t Nadia stay for a sleepover?”
“Not tonight, Danni. I think you’ll have to clear it with her mom, and after this stunt, she might not be too favorably disposed toward you. Imagine if you’d really gone missing in Manhattan and I hadn’t overheard your crackpot scheme. You’d likely be in trouble with more than Nadia’s parents.”
“But Dante,” she whines.
The older boy holds up a hand and stops her next sentence. “Don’t ‘but Dante’ me. If you pulled a stunt like this and our father found out, your life wouldn’t be worth living.”
Danni’s shoulders hunch when her brother mentions the don, and she nods, edging toward the door.
“Go upstairs, Nadia,” I say. “We’ll see you soon.” I don’t want her in this room until I know what’s going on.
She swallows whatever she was about to say, spinning on her heel to follow her friend. All of us listen to the footsteps pounding up the spiral staircase in the hallway as Dante pours three tumblers of cognac and slides two across the table.
“Nadia is free to leave when you do, but I wanted to discuss an alliance.” He looks between Sasha and me as he tries to work out which one of us makes the decisions.
Sasha picks up his cognac and swirls it around the glass, regarding the young Italian over the rim. “And what exactly would this alliance involve?”
Dante puts his glass on the leather-covered desk without taking a sip. “I want you to help me kill my father.” He stares at both of us, leaning back in the chair and clasping his hands over his midriff. He’s trying to look relaxed, but his knuckles are white.
“Patricide. That’s a bold move.” Sasha takes a sip of his cognac and mirrors Dante’s posture.
“I know you’ve got my sister. Alessandra. My father sent her to that brothel because he wanted her to think there are worse fates than marrying the Night Governor.” He taps a pen against the desk and looks from me to Sasha, the question written clearly in his dark eyes. “But I’m not so sure. Yevgeny Guelman makes my skin crawl.”
Sasha leans forward. “The Night Governor breaks women. My sister...” He looks up at the bookshelves, no doubt thinking of the Night Governor’s study. “She didn’t survive Moscow. How much of that was Guelman’s doing, I’ll never know, but if I were you, then I’d be glad we picked her up.”
“What are you planning to do with my sister? I understand that neither my older sister Alessandra nor I were ever going to choose our own partners, but a man like the Night Governor is a bad match. She’d never be a partner, just a plaything.”
He stands and starts to pace around the desk, finally taking a sip of his drink, so I take a sip of mine and watch him as he runs his hands along the books before pulling out a copy of Machiavelli’s The Prince.
“My older sister is clever. If it was played right, she would be an asset. A queen. Not just a pawn.” He pauses, fingering the pages. “It’s a sign that he’s losing his edge, and it’s an opportunity for me.”
He’s a boy. But I’ve got to admire his nerve.
Sasha looks over at me and we share an unspoken understanding. This is an opening for us too.
“What are you proposing?” Sasha takes a slow sip of his cognac.
“Alessandra marries into the Russian Mafia, which will strengthen my hand,” Dante says. “We work together on the recycling business and beef up our legitimate operations. And most importantly, we get rid of my father.”
“Why are you so keen to get rid of your father?” I ask. “Surely you’re next in line to succeed him, so you would do better to wait until you’re a bit older.” I can’t imagine this boy could control New York’s Italian Mafia, even with our help.
Dante sinks into the chair, putting the half-drunk glass of cognac down beside him. “There won’t be much left of our operation if I wait. The old man is losing his grip. He was never loved, but in the last few years, he’s become volatile, vindictive. He commands very little loyalty among the men. This deal with the Night Governor speaks of desperation. It will strengthen my father in the short-term but weaken us. The Night Governor never had alliances before. He won’t start now.”
Sasha and I exchange a brief look and then turn back to look at the Italian boy. The Night Governor has always worked alone, and this kid has read Guelman better than his father, which is impressive, but working with him will be a gamble. He’s pacing behind the desk and talking as if he’s thinking through the problem out loud.
“You get rid of my father, and I owe you. We work together, and I come out of this stronger. We’d be in a position to control New York.” He places his palms on the desk and leans over, looking at Sasha and me as if he expects an immediate answer.
He’s clever and bold, but he’s got a lot to learn. He grins at me like faking a kidnap attempt is a big joke, but his smile drops as I pull out a gun and point it at him.
“I’m not going to shoot you now,” I say. “Not with my daughter and her friend in the house, but you and I are going to have words about this. You can’t threaten people’s children and think there won’t be consequences.”
Dante pulls himself up to his full height, throws his shoulders back, and glares at me. “Let me make myself very clear,” he bites out. “I didn’t threaten anyone. You should be thanking me.”
I raise the gun and shoot at the bookcase past his shoulder. He keeps entirely still, and his eyes don’t move from my face. Despite myself, I’m impressed that he’s unruffled.
“And what the fuck should I be thanking you for?” I ask.
“Uncovering Danni and Nadia’s crazy plan to go missing, make you worry, and get you to come running to find her. It could have gotten them both killed or worse. There are a lot of sick men in this city who would love to get their hands on those two. They didn’t even know how to behave, because Nadia doesn’t understand that she’s the daughter of a mafioso.”
“Oh really? And your sister didn’t have a part to play in this?” I say.
He swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he looks away from me for the first time. “My father did an equally poor job. It’s something I can remedy once he’s out of the picture.” He sits down slowly, clasps his hands in front of him, and regards me and Sasha with an unwavering stare. “These girls can be assets, but they’re liabilities if they’re blind to the consequences of their actions. That happens when they don’t know what’s at stake. When they make a misstep.” He looks toward the door. “Like the two little girls upstairs.”
“And your sister. Alessandra? Wasn’t defying your father a misstep?” Sasha throws the questions out with a sneer. “She shouldn’t have been in that brothel. It’s complicated all of our lives.”
“Alessandra had nothing to lose. She was desperate, and he forced her into a corner. I would never make that mistake.” He looks over at me. “I won’t tell you how to bring up your daughter, but I can see the errors my father made, and I’m not about to repeat them with my younger sister once he’s out of the picture.”
He picks up the phone and sends a text, and then footsteps pound on the stairs. Nadia appears in the doorway, looking scared. She twists her fingers together when she’s nervous, just like her mother does.
I stand and open my arms to her, and she steps into them. She smells of hot baked bread, sunshine, and hope. I wrap my arms around her and breathe her in. My heart is in my mouth as her narrow shoulders tremble against me.
“You, little girl, are in trouble.”
“Really? How much trouble?” Her eyes search mine, and I pick her up and crush her in a hug.
“A lot of trouble,” I say. “You now have two parents to get in trouble with. And I’m going to have to answer to your mother for this mess.”
I might have gotten our daughter back, but will that be enough for Kesera to accept me as well? If the tables were turned, I wouldn’t want anything to do with a man who brings so much chaos and darkness with him.