Chapter 23
It was an hour before dawn when the insistent buzz of Rodrigo's phone jolted him awake. He silenced the phone with a swipe, not wanting the sound to wake Giana on the couch in the other room. Leo had been calling him.
What the fuck has happened now?
Slipping from the bed, Rodrigo pulled on a black T-shirt before padding barefoot into his private office adjoining the bedroom.
The office was dominated by a large desk with multiple monitors that were currently dark. He activated the primary screen with a touch, the glow illuminating the sharp planes of his face as he called Leo back.
"What is wrong now, little brother?" he grumbled.
Leo looked tired in the blue light of his own monitor, with deep shadows under his eyes.
Behind him, Dario was a blurred shape moving in the background of what looked like the garage annex.
"Sorry for calling, but I didn't want to wake Giana by banging on the bedroom door.
Dario and Fred are back, and they have Luca. "
"Alive?" he asked.
"Alive and currently discovering some of my future husband's conversation talents in Holding Cell Three." Leo paused, his expression twisting in annoyance. "They also brought back two Falcone soldiers. Luca's meeting turned into a messy brawl."
Rodrigo's jaw clenched. "Define 'messy,' Leone."
"They are both dead." Leo's sigh of annoyance was audible. "One person took a fall from a balcony after Fred kicked him. The other bled out from a leg wound that Dario swears was self-inflicted during the initial breach."
Rodrigo pinched the bridge of his nose. Dario and Frederica were always going to be a volatile mix, but he had sent them, hoping their antagonism would keep them sharp, not get their leads killed.
"The bodies?" he asked when he knew he wouldn't start shouting.
"Stashed in the Ducato van for now. Dante's handling it, but the bodies aren't the immediate problem.
" Leo leaned closer to the camera. "The Sicilians are getting noisy.
We intercepted encrypted chatter spiking about an hour ago.
They know Luca's gone dark, and they're demanding a video conference with you and Giana as soon as possible. "
Rodrigo's blood ran cold, then hot. The demand was a gauntlet thrown down. Vincenzo Falcone, the arrogant pup, was making a move.
"They want to talk? Fine. Set it up, but give me thirty minutes."
"It's barely dawn," Leo pointed out.
"I know, but if they want to meet me, they can do it on my fucking terms or not at all. I want Dario and Fred to come and debrief me, even if they're still covered in each other's blood."
Rodrigo ended the call without waiting for a reply. He turned, bracing his hands on the cool surface of the desk, head bowed. This was not how he planned to wake up.
Fucking Vincenzo.
The image of Giana sleeping safely on his couch warred with her broken body in that dog crate. The rage was a living thing, coiled deep in his gut. He would burn cities to keep her safe. Starting with Palermo, if necessary.
The soft sound of feet made him straighten. Giana stood silhouetted in the doorway, wrapped in one of his oversized dressing gowns, the dark silk swallowing her. God, he loved her wearing his clothes. Her hair was tousled, her eyes still heavy, but alert.
"Trouble?" Her voice was sleep-roughened, but steady.
Rodrigo leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms so he wouldn't reach for her.
"The Sicilians want a meeting with us in thirty minutes." He kept his tone casual, though annoyance vibrated beneath the surface. "If you don't want to sit in on it, I won't make you."
Giana's gaze sharpened, the last traces of sleep vanishing. "Vincenzo has been stirring up trouble with the other bosses?"
"Undoubtedly. Leo's setting it up here. If you don't want to sit with me, we can get your laptop patched in. You will still have a front-row seat without having to deal with the stronzos directly."
She moved to the large leather armchair positioned beside his desk and sat down.
"No, I want to be sitting with you, and for Vincenzo to know that his bird cage stunt hasn't bothered me the way he hoped."
"It won't be pleasant," he warned, pushing off the desk to stand before her. He reached out, unable to resist, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His thumb lingered for a fraction of a second against her temple. "He's going to make claims. Ugly ones."
"I know what he thinks he owns." Giana's eyes met his, dark and fathomless. "We need to talk about last night, but it has to wait until we deal with these assholes. We both know whatever is between us is… complicated. But this? This performance is ours to control now. Partners, remember?"
The word partners, spoken in that soft, determined voice, struck him harder than any blow.
"Partners until the end," he confirmed. "Go get ready. They will make sure they are on time for this."
Rodrigo moved to the large, antique wardrobe tucked into the corner of the office. He opened the heavy doors, revealing reinforced shelves and drawers full of his customized weapons.
From a concealed compartment at the back, hidden behind false panels and a biometric lock, he retrieved a small box made of dark, polished wood, banded in tarnished silver. He carried it back to his desk, setting it down beside his keyboard.
Giana watched him, her expression unreadable. "What's in the box, Rodrigo?"
"Something I really hope I don't have to use."
Before she could press further, the main door to the office opened. Dario entered first, looking like he had been dragged backward through a hedge. His curls were wild, and his leather jacket was scuffed.
Frederica followed, her braid slightly askew, a thin cut on her lower lip glistening.
"You wanted a debrief," Dario announced, his voice gravelly.
He slumped into the other armchair opposite Giana, running a hand over his face.
"Luca's secure. Singing like a fucking canary now he's awake, and Dante slapped him about.
The two Falcone goons are currently chilling in the van until you tell me what to do with them.
Dante's got the AC cranked, and Athena is keen to set a new body dismemberment record. "
Frederica leaned against the wall near the door, arms crossed. Her gaze was fixed on Rodrigo, cool and assessing.
"The meeting was at a farmhouse outside Treviso.
Luca was delivering intel like patrol schedules, and weak points in the perimeter since the restructuring after Izmir.
There was two contacts. The one who bled out was muscle, low-level.
The one who took the balcony dive was higher up.
A lieutenant named Bruno. Luca identified him before he passed out again. "
"Bruno reported directly to Vincenzo's inner circle," Dario added, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.
"Luca didn't know the ultimate recipient of the information either, just that it was always for the 'nephew's office.
' He was scared shitless, Rodrigo. Kept babbling about 'the old man's wrath' if things went wrong. "
Rodrigo absorbed the information, his mind racing. Vincenzo was moving fast, consolidating power, using fear. Good. Fear made people stupid.
"And the messy part?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.
Dario flushed. "The leg shot was self-inflicted. The idiot panicked when I breached the door, fumbled his gun when I kicked him, and shot himself in the thigh. I just knocked him out after. How was I supposed to know he'd hit the fucking artery?"
"What happened to the other one?" Giana asked, her brows lifting.
"Yeah, Spartana, what did happen to the other one?" Dario pressed, a teasing light in his eyes.
"He was attempting to throw me off a balcony. Dario intervened with the help of some…improvised architecture." Frederica's lips twitched, the ghost of dark amusement that mirrored Dario's. "The railing proved structurally unsound, and he went over on his own."
Rodrigo sighed. "Both of you get out of my sight and get some sleep. I need to get dressed to deal with the Sicilians, and I might need you to be ready for an attack in a few hours."
They left without arguing further, and Rodrigo turned to Giana. "I'll let you have the first shower."
"How considerate of you, fiancée," Giana said, her lips lifting at one corner. "You can make me a double espresso while you wait."
Rodrigo's stomach unclenched a little at the sight of the smile and the teasing. She was putting aside their kiss from last night, but there was an easiness between them that hadn't existed before.
"Anything my queen wishes," he replied, with a bow.
Giana snorted and headed back into the wardrobe. "Just don't burn the beans, or I'll change my mind and marry Vincenzo."
"Over my dead body," Rodrigo declared, meaning every word.
Giana's laughter echoed back to him, and despite the dead bodies and the Sicilians he now had to deal with, Rodrigo smiled.