Chapter 4
DOMENICO
The ride downtown to the restaurant took about twenty minutes because Magnolia Crest was at the edge of the town.
When I pulled into the parking lot, a few of my enforcers were waiting by the door.
Alessio (Alec) Dominici, Giovanni’s brother, was talking with another enforcer, Dante Cavalli, and Dario, Rafa’s brother and Lieutenant.
They stopped speaking when we exited the vehicle and approached.
I raised my brow at Alec, and he handed me a list.
“It was the best Marco could do in thirty minutes.”
I scowled at Rafa before leafing through the dossiers of the men Oswald had brought with him. They were all low-level thugs with no real training. It would make them easier to subdue, but it also meant they were unpredictable.
“Fucking hell,” I muttered.
“About sums it up,” Dario grunted, handing his brother a Beretta 92FS.
“Are they here yet?” Rafa asked as he shoved the gun into the back of his pants, under the suit coat he’d put on specifically to hide it. I had several weapons on my person, including my own Beretta tucked into a holster on my hip.
“They’ve been parked across the street for over three hours,” Alec informed us. “Elena is the hostess this afternoon, and she called me when she noticed the car hadn’t left after the lunch rush, and people were sitting inside it.”
“You sent her home.” It was more of a statement than a question. Elena was Matteo’s seventeen-year-old sister, and getting her out of there should have been the first priority for any of my guys.
“Of course. Gavin was working in the back office, so he and Elena went out this rear exit.”
I was relieved that she’d left with her twin. He was old enough to begin learning his place in The Family, but he was far from ready to be involved in any action.
The door creaked as it opened, and Caterina Cavalli—Dante’s cousin and the first female enforcer for the DeLucas—stuck her head out. “You all going to stand out here gossiping all day or come in and deal with the shit stinking up a very fine restaurant?”
“They're waiting on us, I take it?” Rafa clarified as he buttoned his coat, then fully opened the door so he could go inside.
“In the back booth on the left,” she muttered as she led the way through the kitchens and into the dining room.
The atmosphere in Cypress & Sangiovese was calm and classy during the day.
Lots of windows let in natural light to keep the dark wood and deep wine-red decor from making it seem dim and claustrophobic.
At night, candles were lit on each table, with a copper sconce hung overhead.
There was often a live band playing blues or easy jazz.
The food was decadent, and the wine paired perfectly by sommeliers we paid a fuck ton to lure away from our wineries in Italy.
The place could feel romantic as easily as it was business casual, depending on the customer's mood. We owned most of the buildings in town…in all of Camellia Falls, really. And if someone wasn’t renting the space from us, then we owned the business.
Everyone knew that Cypress & Sangiovese was owned and operated by the DeLucas.
Which was why it had surprised me when Oswald agreed to meet here.
As we approached the table, Caterina said in a loud stage whisper, “The big one almost lost an eye.”
My lips twitched at her comment, knowing from experience that it was a strategic move.
Caterina was considered a very beautiful woman, and while I had hoped to add her to my team because she was lethal as fuck, I’d worried that she would get distracted by the leering and crude comments that she would inevitably encounter in our line of work.
And as shitty as it was, they would sometimes be directed at her from clients or customers.
But she’d proven her worth a million times over.
She’d been trained by Dante, making her one of the best assassins in the business.
But that wasn’t the reason I’d ultimately gone to bat for her as an enforcer.
It was when I saw how she handled herself around the scum that we encountered in our line of work.
She didn’t bat an eye at anything. Unflappable and cold as hell, emotion was never a factor in her thought process, she looked at everything through a strategic lens.
The only time she reacted unexpectedly was when she could use people’s underestimation of her as a tool. Her comment was an assessment of the man at the table and had nothing to do with his lecherous gaze.
One look at the “big one’s” eyes, and I knew he was high as fuck. Shit. He was a ticking time bomb.
“Handsy over here needs to keep mitts to himself.”
The guy next to Oswald had brass knuckles on under his gloves. Ameteur. However, he was beefy, clearly strong and muscular, despite being smaller than the other two men. If he was scrappy, he could do some damage before we managed to subdue him.
“And this guy is clearly hiding a sharp mind underneath all that greasy hair. A man with hair on his chest. Sexy, right?” She winked at Oswald, making him blush like a pussy.
He was packing a blade beneath his shirt. Not unexpected since they hadn’t been allowed to bring in their guns.
Finished with her assessment, Caterina moved to stand behind Oswald’s little friend, all pretense gone.
My team surrounded the table, faces impassive, arms crossed over their chests, feet braced apart. Once Rafa had pulled up a chair and taken a seat, I took my spot directly behind him.
“You requested to meet with me,” Rafa said without preamble. “You have five minutes of my attention.”
“I want Opal back,” Oswald snarled.
Rafa raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
“My sister, asshole!”
I narrowed my eyes at him but didn’t otherwise move. Rafa could handle himself as well as any of our enforcers, so I wouldn’t intervene unless it became necessary or I was specifically asked to handle something.
Oswald glanced at me nervously, then refocused on Rafa.
His doped-up companion was shaking, and I lifted my chin at Alec, who stepped closer and placed his palms on the back of the seat behind the druggie.
If he made a move, he’d have Alec’s hands around his throat before he could take his last breath.
“I know you took Opal. She belongs to someone, and he wants her back.”
He stopped and blinked a few times, his eyes darting nervously around the room.
Seeing all the people seemed to give him courage, figuring that we wouldn’t step out of line with so many witnesses.
He threw his shoulders back and leaned in, locking eyes with Rafa.
“I know she isn’t dead. Somehow you faked her murder, and I can prove it. ”
“Is that so?” Rafa leaned back in his chair and rested an ankle over one knee, the picture of relaxed. The predator hid just beneath the surface. “Enlighten me, Oswald.”
“I don’t have time for this shit, DeLuca,” Oswald spat. “I’m here to deliver a warning. You return my sister in forty-eight hours, or I’ll trade him yours instead.”
Rage like I’d never experienced engulfed my body, and I was hit with the desire to gut this guy like a pig while he squealed for mercy. Thankfully, I’d spent a lifetime learning how to control myself, so my only outward reaction was to clench my fists so hard that my short nails bit into my skin.
“Did you just threaten my sister?” Rafa asked in a deceptively calm voice. The merciless King of the South had made an appearance, and Oswald’s life was nearing its end.
“You heard me. My sister for yours.”
Before we could say anything else, the bell over the door jingled.
My gaze never left the men at the table, but from Alec’s vantage point, he was able to see what the commotion was about.
His face darkened into a murderous scowl.
He dropped one of his hands down onto the shoulder of the druggie but didn’t move the other one from the back of his seat.
He was simply holding the man in place, not threatening him.
It was an action meant to protect others in case the meth head flipped his shit and managed to get his hands on a weapon.
Caterina lowered her hands to the shoulders of the “handsy” one, and he winced when her thumbs dug into just the right spot, hitting a nerve that made his arms go limp.
Dante, who was directly behind Oswald, shifted to the same position as Alec.
When I knew the three men were secure, I twisted my head around to look toward the front entrance.
“Merda.”
A group of high school girls spilled into the restaurant, all laughing and innocent, with no idea what they had just walked into.
“Can I help you?” Desiree, our day manager, asked hesitantly. This wasn’t usually the kind of establishment where you would find a younger crowd—especially ones who weren’t old enough to drink.
Desiree briefly glanced over at our booth, then shifted so that when the girls looked at her, they were facing away from us. Bene, Desiree.
“We heard that someone famous would be eating dinner here!” one of the girls practically squealed as she bounced on her feet.
“I heard it was the singer Griffith Thorne!” her friend shrieked.
“But my friend told me it was Austin Hayes.” Another girl pouted. “I loved his last movie.”
“Wouldn’t it be awesome if it was Prentice Wright?” suggested a girl wearing a New York Nighthawks jersey. “I heard he has connections to the Mafia!”
The teenagers started squabbling about rumors and reality, throwing out more suggestions while more high school students appeared at the door.
“Can we get those tables over there?”
“I want to be able to see when they get here.”
“Oh, maybe they’ll come in through the back. Can we sit near the kitchen?”