23. Damiano
It’s pouring out and I’m soaking wet because I’m stubborn as shit when it comes to umbrellas. Now I’m dripping all over my front hallway.
I hang my wet coat, slide off my shoes and socks, step on to the heated tile floor. Paige is somewhere in the apartment, but I can’t see her from the entryway. “I brought you pizza, angel. From Gino’s.”
“Aww, thanks, sugarplum,” a man’s voice answers. “I avoid carbs, but it’s the thought that counts.”
I freeze. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. That’s not Salvo, the only other person who has the access code for my apartment.
“Come, paisano.” Countryman . “Come join our party.”
Massimo. Definitely Mas.
What the fuck?
No fucking way he should be here. Not in Galliano territory, not in my apartment. I take a few seconds to figure out how this is going to play out with Paige here.
“Una mattina,” Massimo sings, slow and deep. “Mi son svegliato. O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao. Una mattina, mi son svegliato. E ho trovato l’invasor.”
‘Bella Ciao.’ An Italian folk song. One morning I woke up, O beauty bye, beauty bye, beauty bye bye bye. One morning I woke up, and I found the intruder.
I have my Glock 41 on me and Bianca. I unholster my gun and pull my knife from the clip on my waistband. I hold both in my right hand, Paige’s pizza in my left hand, and I walk into the room.
Mas is sitting at the table, still singing. He’s leaning back, his hands laced behind his head. His Glock is set down on the table in front of him. The extractor LCI on its muzzle is protruding, signaling that there’s already a round in the chamber.
Paige is next to him, sitting up perfectly straight, her hands folded neatly on her lap. She looks so small sitting there, staring at his gun. Afraid.
I lay my gun and knife down on the table next to his.
Mas smiles. Smiles his big shit-eating grin. He leans forward, elbows on the table. He looks at Paige as he sings the refrain, “O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao.” O beauty bye, beauty bye, beauty bye bye bye. It’s the song our people sing to protest oppression.
He turns back to me, tipping his head toward Paige. “Are we doing this with your girl here?”
“She’s not my girl.”
Paige’s eyes snap up to mine, her nervousness quickly morphing into confusion. Her lips part slightly.
I shrug my shoulders and exhale, try to apologize with a look. It’s instinct to try to protect her at all times, including trying to keep a bull’s eye off her back. The words rolled off my tongue without thought, but they didn’t feel right.
Mas looks at Paige, tips his head to the side. “Alright,” he very obviously checks out her tits, then smiles even wider. “Are we doing this with some girl here?”
I shake my head. This isn’t for Paige to witness. I’d send her on a walk, but I don’t know if the Bagliateri capture order covers her or not. “è sicuro per lei uscire?” Is it safe for her to go outside?
He shakes his head. Cazzo. Well at least that’s confirmed now.
I turn to Paige. “Go wait for me in the bedroom. I’ll come get you in a few minutes.”
“But, Dom—”
“Massimo and I need to talk. Privately.”
“I don’t think he’s here to talk.” Paige looks genuinely concerned. And scared.
But she doesn’t need to be. “It’s fine. He’s not going to hurt you. Go in the other room.”
Massimo is watching her like a hawk. I am too. Paige slides her chair back and stands up.
She’s wearing a pair of my boxer briefs with the waist rolled over a few times. Inches of her tan skin are exposed, the palest baby fuzz on her tummy. The outline of her sharp hip bone is showing. Sexy as fuck, looking like a wet dream.
Mas is thinking the same thing, I’m sure.
“Paige, please go. I’ll handle this.”
“But. . .” She’s looking around the room, looking between the two of us. “Okay, I’ll go. I’ll— Oh my god, what is that? ” she yells and points to the far corner of the room.
Neither of us flinch. It was an adorable attempt to distract Massimo. A failed attempt, but a fucking adorable one.
“What the hell is wrong with the two of you? Are you two robots? Normal people turn and look when someone yells, ‘oh my god, what’s that’ and points. You’re supposed to turn and look.”
“Paige, please.”
“Ecco perché hai bisogno di una ragazza Italiana. Uno che ascolta.” This is why you need an Italian girl. One who listens, Massimo tells me.
“Come va per te?” How is that working out for you?
He shrugs, smiles. “Piu ’o meno lo stesso per te.” About the same as you.
“Whyyyyy?” Paige bellows, far more dramatically than the situation calls for. She sits back down and flops herself forward, her long golden hair flying forward over her head that’s now resting on the table.
Fuck . Don’t do this, Paige.
A second later, she jolts upright, big smile on her face. She’s got my gun in her hand, has it pointed at Massimo. “Run, Dom. I’ve got him covered.”
“E’ una fottuta pazza?” Is she a fucking lunatic? Mas asks, his eyes glued to her.
“Penso che stia cercando di salvarmi la vita.” I think she’s trying to save my life.
He tips his head to the side, eyes focused on the extractor LCI on the side of my gun, which is not protruding, indicating there is not a bullet in the chamber ready to fire. “Allora forse dovresti dirle di armare il martello, lo sai?” Then maybe you should tell her to rack the slide, yeah?
“Paige,” I plead.
She shifts her eyes to me for a second, giving Massimo the opening I know he’s going to take no matter what I do or say.
In a heartbeat, he slams her hand down to the table like they were arm wrestling. With his other hand, he grabs his gun— with its LCI extractor protruding—and points it at her.
“Think you can you chill the fuck out?” he asks her.
Paige doesn’t know Mas. Doesn’t know whether he’s a threat or not. She knows people are out looking to hurt me, and she knows he broke into my apartment—I’m assuming he didn’t knock and she didn’t let him in.
How the fuck did he get in? The front door wasn’t jimmied.
Paige nods her head like she’s going to do what he says.
He squeezes her wrist until she lets go of the gun, he moves it to the chair next to him, the opposite side from her. “Jesus,” he says, “you’re a loose fucking cannon, aren’t you?” Mas hasn’t put his gun down. He’s not pointing it at her, but he hasn’t put it down.
Honestly, I have no idea what she’ll—
“Dom!” She grabs my dagger off the table and throws it to me.
For fuck’s sake —I leap out of the way just in time for Bianca to plant herself pointy end first into the back of the couch behind me. Exactly at the height of my dick .
I cup my junk, even though the imminent danger has passed. “What the fuck are you doing?” My voice is two octaves higher than normal. “Don’t throw a fucking knife. Are you fucking nuts? I can’t catch a flying knife. No one can catch a flying knife.”
No way I’m moving my hand away from my dick anytime soon. I swear he felt the breeze of Bianca whizzing by.
“I’m helping. I’m saving you.”
“Stop trying to save me. And stop risking your own fucking self again.”
I look to Mas, expecting his gun to be pointed at her again. Instead, he’s rubbing the muzzle across his lip, smiling, watching with absolute delight in his eyes. “Questa è una custode, sì?” This one’s a keeper, yes?
“L’aiuto di questo qui si è avvicinato di più a uccidermi di quanto lo abbia fatto chiunque dei vostri ragazzi.” This one’s ‘help’ has come closer to killing me than any of your guys have.
Mas turns to Paige. “Listen, sweetheart. I need to talk to our guy here. I’d prefer it if you beat it while we talk. But if that’s not happening, I need you to sit there very, very still. Can you do that?”
She shrugs her shoulders, like she sincerely isn’t sure whether she can.
“Do I need to tie you up?”
“La tocchi di nuovo e ti farò del male in modi a cui non hai ancora pensato.” You touch her again and I will hurt you in ways you haven’t thought of yet.
“Not your girl, huh?”
Paige interrupts our stare-off. “I’ll behave. I promise.” She spreads her palms flat on the table. She looks back and forth between me and Mas. “I promise. Really.”
Mas nods at her then stands. He tucks his gun into his shoulder holster. That’s a nice fucking holster. I want one like that. Now’s probably not the time to ask where he got it. But where did he get that? Mas pushes the chair with my gun on it further away from Paige, then takes a step toward me.
I have no idea what he thinks went down with his brother. Word on the street is that I shot him. In the fucking back . Like a slimy fucking coward.
Mas takes the last step to me. We’re the same height. He’s a little leaner, but only slightly. We’re toe to toe. He’s searching my face. Reading me.
“Mas, I—”
He shakes his head slightly. Doesn’t say a word. Just lets out a long, slow breath.
He looks so fucking lost.
I reach out, wrap my hand around the back of his neck. I pull him into me, kissing one cheek, then the other, like we’re still in Old Italy, then I pull him closer for a full-on hug. “It’s been too fucking long, man.”
He exhales a shaky breath, eventually relaxing most of his weight onto me.
“Too fucking long.”
After a long minute, a minute where I worry he’ll collapse to the floor if I let go, he pulls back, my hand still cupping the back of his neck.
“How’s Davide?”
“Don’t fucking know.” His eyes are wet. “ Best case scenario, he’ll have to learn to walk again. His wife’s a fucking mess over it all.”
“Cazzo.”
Mas sits back down at the table. I take the seat next to Paige, pulling her chair closer to mine. The pizza on the table smells so fucking good, I’m tempted to say fuck all to the protein shake and salad I was going to make for myself.
Paige tips her head to the side, her brow tightly knitted. “He’s not here to kill you?”
“No. I told you that. I said he was here to talk.”
“I thought ‘talk’ was code for ‘kill you.’”
“Why would ‘talk’ be code for ‘kill me’? And why would I put my weapons down if he was here to kill me? And if he were here to kill me, I would have killed him first.”
“You would have tried to kill me first,” Mas adds, leaning back in his chair, smiling.
“Gina said that the Baglios want you dead.”
“The Bagliateris ,” Mas corrects, “ do want him dead.”
“Aren’t you a Bagliateri?”
Massimo gets a disgusted look on his face for a split second, then covers it. He better keep that shit under control before other people start noticing.
I answer for him. “Massimo’s the enforcer for Johnny Gianmarco, the nephew of Joey Bagliateri. His allegiance is to Johnny, not Joey.”
“Okay. But doesn’t that make you a Bagliateri? Or a Bagliateri-by-association? Bagliateri adjacent? A Bagliateri once removed?”
I let out a long breath. Massimo stares at Paige like she has two heads.
Massimo’s secret beef with Joey is a story for another day. No doubt Mas would put a bullet between Joey Bags’ eyes if Johnny would green-light it, but Johnny actually loves his uncle, thinks the world of him. And Mas respects Johnny, so he swallows that shit down deep.
“Non ho tutto il giorno, amico. Nessuno sa che sono qui.” I don’t have all day, man. No one knows I’m here.
And no one can know. No one in the Famiglie knows the history between Mas and me, that we served in GOI together, that we would take a bullet for each other. Hell, Mas did take a bullet meant for me in Sardinia.
Lucky for me, I know exactly how to distract Paige enough so she’ll stop talking and Mas and I can get to what we need to get to.
Plus, seeing her in my boxers, acting all brave, trying to defend me, has me all kinds of worked up. If it weren’t for her throwing my knife at my dick, I’d be hard as steel right now. I reach down under the table and cup my junk again, letting the boys know they’re safe.
With my other hand, I pull Paige’s chair the last few inches so it’s up against mine. She startles at the sudden movement. I wrap my hand around her neck and pull her close, whisper so only she can hear, “Can you sit quiet for a few minutes? Just sit there and listen?”
I bite her lobe and don’t let go, breathing heavy so she feels it. My other hand slides up her thigh, not stopping until my fingers slip inside the boxers high up on her thigh and find the lacy edge of her panty. “No more talking. No more questions. Can you do that for me, angel? Do that, and I’ll explain everything later, with my head between your legs. Yeah?”
She wriggles in the chair.
“Say ‘yes, Damiano. Whatever you say, Damiano.’”
“Yes, Damiano. Whatever you say, Damiano,” she whispers, her eyes closed. She spreads her legs a little, giving me better access. She tips her head closer to me, leaning on my shoulder, her mop of golden hair covering her face.
“That’s my good girl.”
I turn back to Mas. “So what the fuck happened to Davide? He wasn’t even at the park that night.”
He shrugs. “He was in the car. Him and Vinnie.”
“ Vinnie was there, too?“ I lean back in my chair while that bomb sinks in. Wasn’t expecting that. But it does explain how a guy with a bullet in his leg was able to drive away so fast.
Vinnie is Joey’s consiglieri, practically his right hand. No reason—no good reason at least—for someone that high ranking to come to a bag exchange.
I have no clue what to make of this. “Well, then, him and Vinnie never got out of the car. I never saw either of them. Paulie Vitale shot me, then he swallowed a bullet before I could ask him what the fuck was going on. I hobbled Joey’s one guy when he started shooting at me. He crawled away and the car took off. Never saw Davide or Vinnie.”
Mas shrugs his shoulders. “When they rolled into my warehouse, Davide was in the back of the SUV bleeding out. The other guy was tits up with a shot to the leg and one in the back.”
“And Vinnie?”
“Not a scratch on him. Said he stayed in the car while the two of them went to meet with you.”
I shake my head. “What does Johnny think?”
He shrugs. “What Vinnie told him—that you opened fire then took off with the bag of cash. He doesn’t have any reason to doubt Vinnie.”
“Vinnie said that? He actually said I opened fire on them?”
Mas nods.
“Ed è per questo che c’è una taglia sulla mia testa.” And that’s why there’s a price on my head .
Mas nods again. It’s fucked up, but it makes sense. He blames me and maybe someone takes me out or maybe it starts the war Joey’s wanted for a decade. Solid plan, since him and Vinnie have no clue that Mas would know I’d never hurt his brother. They have no clue Mas would know their story was utter bullshit.
“E poiché uno dei ragazzi è mio fratello, è un ordine di cattura.” And because one of the guys is my brother, it’s a capture order.
I nod. They want me delivered to Mas’ doorstep so Mas, a true master in the art of torture, can exact whatever revenge he sees fit. Rob would do the same for me if the roles were reversed.
Paige fidgets like she’s about to say something, so I slip one finger into the edge of her panties to stop her. She curls her entire body toward me, tucking harder into my side. Feels so fucking good. I kiss the top of her head, breathing her in.
I completely ignore the ‘what the fuck’ look on Mas’ face. He’s never seen me affectionate with a girl. No one has. Fucking around with a girl, sure. But cuddling? Never fucking happened before.
“So then Vinnie shot them,” I add, trying to keep Mas’ attention where it belongs.
“Either he did, or he knows who did. I know it wasn’t Johnny, and I know it wasn’t you. Beyond that? Who the fuck knows? But it does seem like a huge fucking coincidence that Vinnie—who hasn’t gotten his hands dirty in a decade—happens to go to a bag drop the night Paulie decides to take you out.”
“Paulie’s girl is saying that Falco offered to open the books for him if he changed Famiglie.”
“No shit?” Mas leans back in his seat.
“Claims Paulie didn’t tell her specifics, but I could see taking me out as the buy-in. Not sure what me dead gets Falco, but not sure how else Paulie would prove his allegiance.”
“Falco’s a prick, but he doesn’t have a death wish. No way he’d move against the Gallianos without Joey’s nod.”
I was thinking the exact same thing. “Think they’re working together?”
He shrugs. “Entirely possible. Joey’s always stirring the fucking pot. But I haven’t heard anything.”
“But why involve Davide?” I met him once in a big group setting. I don’t know him beyond that, but I know Mas thinks the world of his baby brother. “They could have come after me without dragging him along.”
He looks away. He stares out at nothing for a long minute. “Penso che Joey l’abbia fatto per punirmi.” I think Joey did it to punish me. His voice cracks, the guilt crushing him. “Le uniche due persone a cui sa che tengo sono Johnny e Davide.” The only two people he thinks I care about are Johnny and Davide.
Two weak spots. It makes Mas vulnerable for something exactly like this happening.
I’m positive Joey knows about Mas’ third weakness—that Mas is completely fucking obsessed with Joey’s youngest daughter. Mas is in complete denial about Joey knowing, but Joey’s too fucking cunning not to notice how Mas—the smoothest, coolest cat there is—is a bumbling fucking idiot around that girl. Can barely talk, trips over his own two feet around her. Dropped his gun once and shot one of their own guys by accident when she walked into the room wearing a short skirt.
But Joey would never hurt Carly. Not because he’s some amazing father or even a half-decent one. He’s not, he’s a complete piece of shit. He won’t hurt Carly because she’s promised to Riccardo Falco next year.
And no way Joey knows Mas and I have a blood oath deeper than any oath either of us made to our Famiglia. So he wouldn’t come after me to hurt to Mas. He might come after me, but that would be to undermine the Galliano Famiglia, not for anything personal.
And I doubt any of Joey’s guys could best Mas unless they shot him from behind. Plus going directly after Mas would hurt Johnny, which means the only way to hurt Massimo is to go indirect. To go after his biggest vulnerability—Davide.
The guilt over Davide is obviously killing him. Exactly how Joey intended it.
“You calling in a chit?” I ask.
He’s looking straight at me, but I’m pretty sure he’s deep in his head, running scenarios. He knows I’ll kill Joey for him if he asks me to. It will start an all-out war among the Famiglie and will most likely betray my loyalty oath to the Gallianos.
But I would do it for Mas in a heartbeat. No hesitation whatsoever. I’ll walk out the door and head straight at Joey this minute if he asks me to.
He shakes his head. “We’re not there yet.”
I nod. I don’t want Paige to hear this next part. “Qualcuno dovrà prendersi la colpa per Davide e l’altro uomo.” Someone’s going to have to take the blame for Davide and the other guy.
Having the Bagliateris on my ass and a price on my head is annoying as fuck. I’d rather not kill every low-level guy who thinks he can come at me for a payday. Plus no matter how well I wrap a body in plastic, I still get blood in my trunk. And I fucking hate the smell of bleach. Makes me want to hurl every time, then Rob gets on my case when I trade out Rovers too often.
But most important—it puts Paige at risk whenever she’s out of my sight.
“How about Riccardo?” Mas asks.
With Riccardo being the prick Carly’s promised to, Mas’ reason for picking him to take the fall is obvious.
“Does he have anything to do with Davide?”
Mas smiles and shrugs.
“If we’re starting a war, I’m going for Joey, not Riccardo. Joey is the root of every problem. Always. Mark my words.”
He nods, leans back in his chair. “It’s not time for war. Not yet.”
“Fine. Vinnie, then. All signs point to him shooting Davide anyway. Vuoi che me ne occupi io, così non si mettono dei guai tra te e Johnny?” You want me to take care of this so it doesn’t fuck shit up between you and Johnny?
He smiles the widest I’ve seen in a long time. I can practically see the gears turning, a plan forming in Mas’ head. I’ve almost forgotten what a happy Mas looks like. “Naah. This will be my pleasure. Lo renderò un casino da morire.” I’m going to make it messy as fuck. “Anyway, you’ve got your hands full here.”