22. Isabella
CHAPTER 22
Isabella
“ D id he really have to bring l’estranea with him?” I could hear the murmurs behind me as I waited for Lorenzo. He was walking up and down, examining the contents of the boxes that surrounded us.
“ La puttana should have stayed at home,” another voice answered. It was safe to say that a good number of Lorenzo’s men didn’t care for me. That was fine. I couldn’t say that I liked most of them either. But Lorenzo wanted to show me more of the Cosa Nostra; he wanted me to understand the world that he operated in. He wanted me to be happy in this life, yes, but he also wanted me to understand what I had signed up for.
I thought I knew, but standing in a warehouse in New Jersey, staring at cases of weapons that were stolen from the actual US military, I began to realize that I had no clue.
“Least she’s pretty,” the first voice muttered. “If he’s going to be bringing her around.”
I could feel their eyes on me, as if they were running their greedy hands all over me, but I kept mine on Lorenzo, shoulders squared and head held high. I wasn’t going to look weak in front of them.
“Nah,” the second man said. “She’s all fucked up under that little dress. I heard from my buddy who was at that meeting at the house.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Do not turn around and scream , I told myself. I knew that Lorenzo would come running, but I didn’t want blood on my hands today. “I think you should be thankful that it’s only my body that’s a little fucked up.” I glanced over my shoulder, and both men had frozen. Did they obviously think I couldn’t hear them? “Could you imagine how bad it would be if I was a vengeful bitch, too?”
“Ms. Rossi?—”
My lips stretched into a wide smile, delighted with the way both men went gray. Maybe Lorenzo and I were better suited for each other than I originally thought. “Don’t worry,” I told them. “I don’t mind if you don’t like me because do you know who does?”
The younger of the two men swallowed hard. “Don Vitali?”
I could feel my smile growing colder and crueler. “That’s right,” I said and turned back around. “Lorenzo,” I called.
He looked up. “Are you all right, dolcezza ?”
I weaved around the boxes so that I could be by his side. I didn’t have to look back at the men to know that their eyes were on me. “I’m fine,” I said, and his hand came up to cup my baby bump. He had been doing that more and more.
“I’m almost done here,” he promised.
“Sure,” I said, glancing into the box beside us. It held some very large guns that I couldn’t begin to fathom what they were called, but I knew that if someone was shot with one of these things, they would end up a pile of hamburger meat. “What are you going to do with all of this?”
“Sell it,” he said easily. “As quickly as possible to the highest bidder.”
Damian came over to us with a tablet in hand. He handed it to Lorenzo. “We already have five potential buyers.”
“Who are they?” I asked before I thought to check myself. Both men looked at me. “The buyers,” I clarified. “Who are they?”
Lorenzo glanced from the tablet to me. “Do you really want to know?” he asked.
I didn’t. “You said I needed to know more, right?” I asked. “Tell me.”
He looked down and flicked through the tablet. “Three of these potential buyers are cartels,” he said. “One is a private buyer from Ohio, and the last is an organization out of Japan.”
That was a lot to absorb. “Can you not sell to the one in Ohio?” I asked. The idea of a singular “private” buyer getting his hands on any of these weapons made me sick. Not that I wanted to think about what an organization could do with them either.
Lorenzo actually chuckled. “He doesn’t have enough money in his bank account to compete, don’t worry.”
I would worry; I would probably have nightmares about it, honestly. But I couldn’t decide if I was more worried about the damage some fucked up individual could do with this kind of firepower, or if I was worried snipers would be aiming at Lorenzo through the goddamn windows back at the estate. “Japan,” I said. “It’s the farthest away from here.”
“We’ll consider it,” Lorenzo said and dropped a kiss onto the crown of my head. “Benedict,” he called, turning and looking for someone even as his arm slid around my waist.
The younger of my two admirers from before walked over like he was being called to his execution. “Sir?”
“We thought the Russians would be ready to jump on this shipment,” he said. “But there weren't any issues at all?”
Benedict’s eyes flicked to me for a moment. He was obviously surprised that I hadn’t said a word to Lorenzo. “No,” he said. “Damian’s plan went off without a hitch.” His eyebrows furrowed together. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“It’s suspicious,” Lorenzo said.
“Our intel was that the Russians were gunning for the same cache,” Damian filled in. “So, why were we able to blow in and blow back out without seeing them at all?”
I didn’t like how any of this sounded. “Are we in trouble?” I asked, looking at Lorenzo. His expression softened. “What?”
“Are we in trouble, dolcezza ?” I repeated, adding his usual endearment toward me.
I chuckled at his surprised look and pressed my forehead against his shoulder. “I’m a part of this now, aren’t I?” I asked. “It’s not like you’re just going to stop being who you are because of me.” Both Damian and Benedict went quiet, as if they were surprised by what I said. Even Lorenzo looked shocked. I leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m not going to say that I like any of this,” I said. “But I’m not going anywhere, so tell me the truth, are we in trouble?”
Lorenzo waved Damian and Benedict off before he drew me into his arms properly, kissing me long and deep until my head was swimmy. “We’ll be fine,” he assured me. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I’m not worried about me,” I insisted as Lorenzo’s phone began to buzz in his pocket.
Lorenzo
“Vitali,” I said by way of greeting.
“Lorenzo,” a voice with a deep Russian accent said. “We haven’t spoken in an age.”
Despite the initial gut clench, I relaxed slightly. Nikolai Zakarhov was the head of the Russian Syndicate. While I wouldn’t say that we were on friendly terms, Zakharov and I could be in a room together and not try to kill each other. We were practically best friends.
“Nikolai, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I wanted to thank you for taking care of a perpetual thorn in my side.”
That was…unexpected. “If Artem was such an issue, why didn’t you take him out yourself?”
Nikolai swore in Russian. “Because the ublyudok had too much power. He had a prominent seat in the Syndicate. If any of us had moved against him, it would have been an all-out war, so I appreciate you taking care of that for me.”
His tone set my teeth on edge. I hadn’t done anything for him. I wasn’t a goddamn errand boy. But looking at a still-anxious Isabella, I did my best to tamp down on my anger. “You could have appreciated my efforts with a call before now, Nikolai.”
“You’re angry with me,” the man said with a disappointed-sounding hum. “My apologies. I did call with more than just empty words.”
“Get on with it.”
“I want peace between us,” he said. “The Russian Syndicate and the Cosa Nostra do not need to be at odds with one another. We’ve coexisted in this city for decades, and I would like for that to continue now that my would-be usurper has been put down.”
“What would I get out of that?”
“Everyone wins,” Nikolai boasted. “No more blowing up casinos or burning down buildings. No getting in the way of each other’s money. That’s why I pulled my men back when we got word that you wanted the weapons cache, as a show of good faith from us.”
That cleared up a lot of confusion. “I’ll think about it,” I told Nikolai, “and I’ll let you know by the end of the week.”
“I look forward to hearing from you.”