11
LUCA
P ulling up to the meet point, dust from the hills kicking up clouds beneath the tires. My thoughts are lost as I think back to last night’s events.
I can’t say I wasn’t pissed about the Governor getting handsy with Serafina, but I have to admit that she surprised me. Obviously, Levi didn’t appreciate my jokes. That guy is far too wound up. He needs to get laid.
Maybe that’s it. Something is going on between Levi and Sera. I don’t want to ask what, but I’m pretty sure his anger stemmed from jealousy and deep-seated possessiveness. I wish I could say I didn’t resonate with that, but I’d be lying. I thought I could bury those feelings, but my adoration for her is starting to grate on me. How can I be mad at someone I like?
Yes. I like her.
I’ve gone from being a lost soul with only vengeance on the brain to a man hanging on every word Bianchi says. It came out of the blue, only really hitting me the other night when Luciano appeared. I thought my retaliation came from a need to protect Sera’s honor, when in fact, it came from a deeper place. A place I’ve never really ventured to before .
Sure, I hate men demeaning women, beating on women, but I snapped that night. I wasn’t protecting her honor, I was defending it. I don’t know how to decode what’s happening anymore. I’ve alway felt something for Bianchi, no matter how simple and irrelevant it was. But my alliance with her now has turned into something stemming from more than just revenge and loyalty.
Cazzo!
A black Sedan pulls up in front of me. After leaving Sera’s last night, I received a call from my contact. Someone I’ve hired the assistance of because my skills only stretch so far. They’ve been keeping tabs on everyone, and with good reason. The Verdis have instilled doubt in all of the families—probably intentionally. Which is why safety is important. Not just for me, but for Serafina too.
It’s early morning, but with the sun blazing down already, I can tell it’s going to be a good day. I’ve chosen this place for a reason. The only people ever to venture up here are hikers, and with today’s weather forecast, the area isn’t going to be visited anytime soon.
A door opens from the black Sedan in front of me.
“This him?” Marco asks from the passenger seat. I’ve told the brothers who we’re meeting today. Surprise didn’t come close to the look on Matteo’s face when I mentioned the family name.
I nod, narrowing my eyes on Rafael Mancini, the leader of the smallest family this side of the West Coast Mafia. He’s dressed in a suit, the top of his shirt unbuttoned. For a guy who sits behind a computer most of the day, he has the assassin vibe down to the letter. Between the suit and good looks, you wouldn’t have thought that he prefers the company of whirring boxes and lit up screens. And I’m the type of guy to appreciate a good looking man when I see one.
Raf stands between our cars, perching on the hood of his as he tips his sunglasses down.
Marco and Matteo shift in their seats, and I hear the clicks of their guns as they check the chambers.
“There’s no need for that here. Raf isn’t like that.” In fact, the guy despises the use of guns. It sounds strange considering the guy was once heir to the largest ammunition empire. But after his mother and sister were killed in a shootout, he chose to get rid of the gun business. Now he focuses on more antisocial activities, such as hacking banks and organizations, stealing and cleaning money.
His untraceable skills are what drew me to him. Originally, I’ll admit, it was for more personal reasons. I’m not ashamed to say I called for his help to find dirt on Bianchi. When he said she was clean, I had no choice but to accept that she was the target. It never dissolved the feelings of resentment, just the bubbling anger of blame. I’ve never trusted the Verdis either, but it did cross my mind that Sera could have had ulterior motives the day she was inaugurated.
I guess I was wrong.
Stepping out of the car, I head towards Raf. He’s holding a file under his arm as he spits out his toothpick and replaces it with a cigarette.
“Fontana,” he nods at me, lighting up the smoke. “Ferrantes.”
The brothers stand behind me, less stoic and more prepared for battle. Those two always seem to find trouble, so it seemed worthwhile to bring them along.
“Mancini, what have you got for me?”
“Nothing good, I’m afraid.” He takes a puff of his cigarette, smoke whirling around us. “I followed up on the Rocco family. I wanted to be sure they weren’t working with the Verdis.”
Raf has his own agenda in all of this. He made that clear the day I approached him. He was all too happy to help, and when I told him my own reasons, well, he tried to make me see sense. He never thought Bianchi had a role in my father’s death, but neither of us were there. The only way to be sure was to dig, and that’s one thing Raf is great at.
I take the file from Raf, opening it to find security footage of the two families meeting. Numerous places, various dates and times.
“Looks cozy,” I comment, flicking through the candids.
“Yeah. You’ve got a fight on your hands.” Raf warns, taking a photograph from the bottom of the pile and handing it to me. “They’re bringing in weapons and ammunition. Big quantities, too.”
The image is a container full of weapons. This only confirms that the Rocco family are aligning with the Verdis. While the Verdis deal with cocaine importation, the Rocco’s deal with weapons. They usually sell to gangs, something I know Sera’s father tried to prevent when he was a leader. Now, this falls into Sera’s hands, and that fills me with a fear I’m unfamiliar with. It’s a different kind of fear that stretches far beyond the safety of the innocents around us. I know she’s capable of handling this, but that’s not what seems to worry me.
“This is not good,” I mutter. “Roccos were not meant to be a part of this.”
Raf shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe the Verdis offered them something they couldn’t refuse.”
“Like what?” The only thing that family wants is heirs. They don’t care for war or feuds, they just want to prolong their bloodline. It’s a chaotic attempt to come out on top. They think they’ll be able to withstand all the other families by remaining impartial. Self-preservation at its finest.
“What weapons?” Marco asks over my shoulder.
“AKs, Glocks, semi-autos.” Raf takes a final drag from his cigarette before stomping it in the dirt. “They’re planning something big.”
“Or protecting something big,” I frown. There’s no way two families would need that many guns just to take down Bianchi and they know it. The Rocco family wouldn’t jeopardize their own safety for the sake of a war. There’s something else going on. “Think you can find out more?”
“I’m working on it,” he smirks, popping a new toothpick into his mouth. “I just wanted you to see what I have so far. There’s more to come.”
“Thanks,” I nod. “Sera needs to see this. We need to prepare ourselves.”
“How are the alliances?” he questions. He’s aware of our attempts to get families on our side. Tallying up, I’d say the Verdis have just as many families on their side as we do on ours. They’ve already got the Carlucci’s on their side. That was bound to happen, though.
The Carlucci family are known to be just as ruthless as the Verdis. They don’t care who gets caught up in their gunfire, as long as they win.
“We’re going after Greco,” I say with a sigh.
Raf whistles, shaking his head. “You think that’s a good move?”
“You don’t?”
“I don’t think it’s a bad move, but I know you. You don’t negotiate, and I don’t think Greco will take too kindly to what I know you have planned.” He’s only saying that because he found the dirt on the Grecos in the first place.
“Is that a warning?” I laugh emptily. “Because you of all people should know the lengths people like us would go to.”
For a moment, I don’t think he’s going to answer me. He pats my shoulder, shaking his head and chuckles. He heads back towards the open car door, glancing back at me. “Be careful what you wish for, Fontana.”
“What am I looking at?” Sera frowns. She’s perched behind her desk, her large chair swallowing her small form.
“The Rocco family aren’t as impartial as we thought,” I answer.
“Weapons, ammunition,” Marco adds. “They look like they’re about to go to war!”
“It’s nothing we can’t handle, though,” Matteo reassures.
If there’s one thing I know about the Ferrante brothers, it’s that they could go to war, just those two, and win.
“ Merda ,” she mutters. “We really need to get Greco on our side more than ever.”
“Agreed,” I say, taking a seat beside Levi on the couch.
He’s got his arms folded, looking like someone just pissed on his favorite suit. I would ask, but I can already hazard a guess that it has to do with last night.
“Where did you get these from?” she questions, narrowing her gaze on me.
“I already told you,” I smirk. “The less you know, the better. ”
She turns her attention to the twins, hoping they might supply her with the information, but they don’t budge. We had a firm discussion in the car on the way here, and we were all in agreement that if Mancini doesn’t want his name dragged through the mud, we don’t. He has his reasons and unless he’s willing to show face, it’s not on us to bring him up in conversation.
Rolling her eyes, Sera returns her attention to the file Mancini gave me. I can see the concentration etched in her features. The way she worries her lips as she flips through each photograph tells me she’s trying to work out what’s going on.
“I don’t know what they’re up to, but I don’t think their alliance is to go against you.”
She lifts her eyes to meet mine. “You think something else is going on?”
I nod. “They don’t need that much arsenal to take you down, Bianchi.”
“Then what?”
“I’m still trying to work that out. But I’ll have more information soon. We just need to make sure we get Greco on our side.”
“Right,” she sighs, leaning back in her chair. Her gaze lands on Levi for a moment, before flickering back to me. Whatever happened last night has left them both in sour moods and I don’t think I want to be a part of it.
“What I have on Greco, he’ll never want it getting out. You won’t need to put his balls in a vice,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
Levi huffs beside me, telling me it didn’t work. He didn’t find my jokes funny last night, and he certainly doesn’t now. Deciding to move the conversation on to more important things, I ask about the wedding. “You all set for next weekend?”
Sera runs her hand through her hair, the chocolate waves falling over her shoulders as she leans forward. “Yes. We’ll meet at mine, attend as one unit.”
“Good idea. A united front might sway Greco. And if it doesn’t,” I shrug my shoulders and smirk, “then we go to plan B.”
Serafina nods, albeit reluctantly .
“It’s going to be fine,” I reassure.
“You’ll have us there, we won’t let anything happen.” Levi finally speaks up, and it seems to put our leader at ease.
“Thank you,” she smiles. I sense those two simple words mean a lot more than just gratitude. There’s something else going on and it feels like these are the first words they’ve spoken to each other all morning.
I don’t want to be the one to crowd the situation. It feels like they have a lot to discuss. So, I nod at the brothers and we take our leave. Hopefully, whatever has got those two acting like kids will be smoothed over by this weekend. We can’t afford to have anything go wrong.