CHAPTER TWELVE
A web of lies
— CATERINA —
“You. Got a dog. You?” Leandro asks Clemente while he keeps staring at my dog, who I’ve named Rocco.
My dog. I own a dog. A naked one, but I have a pet and that’s more than I could wish for. Well, before he came into my life I had more than I could wish for with Clemente becoming my husband in all ways; less asshole, more lover.
“Fredo is late,” Clemente states, ignoring Leandro.
He sits down on the couch in the living room and we all watch how Rocco dodges everyone else and jumps on the couch to sit on Clemente’s lap. Who in return sits very awkward and doesn’t so much as give Rocco a glance, let alone touch him.
We’ve been home for over an hour and Rocco has been trailing behind Clemente this whole time.
And yet Clemente doesn’t pick him up, doesn’t pet him, he only talks in a gentle and sweet tone I haven’t heard from him in all the time I’ve been around him.
I might just be a bit jealous because that voice is sexy as hell and I imagine him cooing at our baby one day.
Okay, now my ovaries are threatening to blow up.
Leandro chuckles. “Go on, pet it. It’s a dog, it wants some hardcore petting.”
I’m about to snap about the fact that my dog is not an it, but Clemente beats me to it when he states in a calm voice, “No. This dog doesn’t want anyone to pet him.
He’s comfortable enough as he is. Besides, I like the fact he doesn’t appreciate petting.
Me and him get along just fine without your interference. ”
And Clemente is right. When I pet Rocco his eyes bulge because there’s no fur on his head to make the sliding soft, his skin just bundles up or pulls tight.
He does like it when I nuzzle his neck, give him kisses, or just hold him close.
He’s most definitely a lapdog. Like now, Rocco is curled on Clemente’s lap like a cat, sleeping as if he’s lived here for years; absolutely comfortable.
The doorbell rings and Rocco shoots off Clemente’s lap and starts barking.
And when Fredo strolls into the living room Rocco growls and bares his teeth.
Weird since he didn’t have the same reaction to either Arturo and Leandro.
Yes, those two were already sitting in Clemente’s office when we strolled in there, but still.
Maybe it’s because Fredo is louder and glaring at Rocco as if he’s going to kick him if he gets closer. Asshole. I quickly bend down to snatch Rocco up. Fredo steps closer and lifts his arm to pet Rocco, who starts to bare his teeth again.
“Step away from both my dog and my woman,” Clemente snaps. “My office. Now.”
Fredo spins around and heads for Clemente’s office, Arturo and Leandro trailing after him.
“I like you to be present, but I don’t think the dog likes it. Fredo has a temper, I don’t want him to frighten the dog.”
“The dog has a name,” I huff.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “I know.”
I shake my head and head for the corner of the living room where we placed a kennel with fluffy blankets. If he needs to sleep or take a break, he has a place just for him. Or like now, we can put him inside and close the door to make sure he’s safe and stays in place.
When we finished with the vet we stopped and bought a lot of dog supplies. Two dog beds, food, different leashes, and a truckload of bones and toys. Yes, he’s already a spoiled dog, but he looks at home instead of the frightened bundle I was holding back at the shelter.
I release a sigh of contentment and step back, regretfully tearing my eyes away from Rocco who is snuggling into the fluffy blankets. Knowing he’s due for a long nap after his eventful day, I head for Clemente’s office.
And I’ve not even so much as stepped one foot inside the room before I hear Fredo’s booming voice. “What do you mean explain yourself? There’s nothing to explain. I run a floating casino. You get your cut. What’s there to explain?”
Clemente was right, this man isn’t able to have a normal discussion.
Not to mention he’s rude when he points a finger at me and by the look on his face it’s clear he’s about to say something about a woman being present during a meeting between the head of the Famiglia and a capo.
But he swallows his words and lets his hand drop when Clemente raises his arm to beacon me to him.
I walk straight toward Clemente and take a stand behind his chair, placing my palm on his shoulder and slightly sliding it down to rest on his pecs. Screw Fredo. That’s the statement both Clemente and I are making.
“We’re very much aware of the activities you’re involved in besides the floating casino, Fredo.
Now, as I said, cut the fucking bullshit and start talking.
Otherwise I’ll gladly throw your body on top of Daniel’ before we hunt down Dustin and throw that fucker in the mix too.
And we won’t stop until we’ve killed every damn idiot involved who thinks they can run illegal gambling parties while snorting coke and fucking paid pussy in my damn state. ”
Fredo’s eyes widen, his skin turns ashen and his knees buckle as he sinks down in a chair. He takes his head in his hands and starts to sob. Big fat tears, snot, snorts, gurgling in his throat, the whole shebang. There is no faking this shit, the man is seriously sunken to the pits of hell.
I’m about to step away but Clemente places his hand over mine and with it keeps me pinned to him.
“Spit it out, Fredo. You’re blown to shit as it is,” Clemente calmly states and yet there’s a deadly sounding undertone lacing his words.
“They kidnapped Sofia five weeks ago. It’s my own damn fault.
They showed up two days before they took her and requested a partnership.
They would make all the arrangements and all I had to do was bring a few high rollers.
If only I had given in...but I laughed in their faces, telling them they can’t do shit on Dimentello territory.
Next thing I know Sofia is missing and they pay me another visit, showing my little girl tied to a bed.
They threatened to defile her if I didn’t work with them, kill her if I so much as talked to you. ”
The room goes silent. Arturo, Leandro, and Clemente exchange looks and still don’t utter a single word.
There’s one thing bugging me in all of this, though. “It’s been five weeks. Did they give your daughter back? You clearly gave in to their demands by not telling Clemente, and we know some parties took place.”
I try to remember how old his daughter is. He has two kids, a son and a daughter. One is nineteen, the other...fifteen? Fourteen? Dammit. Was the daughter older or his son?
Fredo shakes his head and his eyes fill with fury when he spits out his words. “They made her think she belongs to them now. I’ve talked to her. She—” He clears his throat and struggles with his words. “She thinks Dustin cares for her. Demands me not to screw things up. I don’t know what to do.”
“You should have come to us,” Leandro growls. “Sofia is nineteen years old and when a male gives her some attention, especially one who stands up against her father, she’s gonna fall facefirst into a web of lies.”
Ah, nineteen, she’s the oldest kid. And Leandro is right, it’s a mirage and if she’s still with Dustin, she’s in some serious danger.
Dustin tortured Ivy, Beck’s sister, to get back at Daniel who he had a dispute with at the time.
One he worked together with later on. They don’t care about women at all, they only care about personal gain.
Dammit, there’s no telling what he might do, or hell, what he’s already done.
“When was the last time you heard or saw your daughter?” I question.
“Three days ago. She calls once a week and that asshole makes me join him and Sofia for dinner every Saturday at seven an my in-laws family restaurant. As if there’s nothing wrong and we’re one happy family.
” Fredo shakes his head. “But it won’t work if you’re thinking about letting me set up a meeting between you guys.
And the whole saving my daughter or kill him. Believe me, we tried.”
“You’re a capo, I’m the fucking head of this Famiglia. I make the fucking decisions here, and you should have come to me the second they approached you,” Clemente snaps with such ferocity, it makes a shiver run down my spine. I’ve never heard his voice like this.
Fredo sinks even more into himself. “It all spiraled down so fast, and then I was in so deep I didn’t know when to tell you or reach out for help.”
“At any point, Fredo,” Arturo grunts. “You could have come forward at any time. Right now, with us squeezing out the information you’ve passed the point of our help.”
Fredo starts to shake his head. “No. Please. They will kill her. My son. My wife. Please,” he begs.
Now he thinks about his wife, my mind offers. The man fucks every woman he can get his hands on, snorts all the coke, and gambles away money like it’s water to flush down the drain, and all of a sudden he begs for his family instead of for his own life. It sure does place things in perspective.
I lean in and whisper out my words meant for Clemente only, “What if we’re there for dinner at the restaurant? If we have a few on the inside and on the outside, we could end it right there. Fredo said Dustin brings his daughter, it would prevent the whole hunt and take down effort.”
His jaw locks tight and he whispers underneath his breath, “You shouldn’t interfere with business.”
A few weeks ago, I would call “Asshole,” in this situation. But now I know exactly why he responds this way.
“You’ll be right there to keep me safe,” I whisper back and place a kiss against his scruffy jaw.
Fredo looks defeated and both Arturo and Leandro are glaring at him. Clemente sighs and clears his throat, causing all eyes to land on his.
“Go home, Fredo. Act like nothing is wrong and continue to do what they say.”
Fredo looks utterly confused by Clemente’s words.