Chapter 12
“Don’t be so dramatic.” He moves his gaze to the open sea.
I tap the edge of the railings that circle the boat. Damascus steel glints off my index finger. “You know that you can’t make me do it if I don’t want to.”
“I’m just trying to persuade you. She’s a nice young woman. Dutiful, respectful. Quiet. She would do anything her father asks her. Marry you, for example.”
In other words, a fucking idiot.
But probably, that is what our world turns our women to. People who would do whatever their family expects them to; for the family’s sake. Family is, after all, everything to a
mafioso.
“Persuasion?” I scoff. “You set me up.”
“You might still change your mind.” He shrugs, an amused look on his face. If only he knew. “In any case, you know where to find me.”
I don’t say anything.
“About our little problem… Any updates?” He asks.
“We haven’t found him. He still hasn’t communicated with his sister yet. We have the place bugged. We’ll know.” My gaze goes to the point in the horizon that his eyes are on.
“That mole has to pay.”
“I will make him pay.”
He nods. “The Sacra has descended a new low this time around, getting a spy to try to
infiltrate our ranks.”
“I have them on my radar too. It will only be a matter of time until they get our message. José Salvatore will be the message.” My hand massages my neck, easing the tension there.
“Tomorrow, I will be in Las Vegas. I trust that you’ll handle everything at home, especially
our new headache.”
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Chapter 12
I nod. “José Salvatore will contact his sister very soon. I know it. And then we will deal
squarely with him.”
An hour and a half later, I’m sitting in my car, staring across at a lit house.
The occupant only just arrived. Now, he’s heating up his serving–for–one meal in the
microwave. His kitchen faces the street and the curtains are drawn to the side so I see
him move across his kitchen.
I study the three–bedroom house. The driveway has a Cadillac in it. There are some dying.
plants in the hedges that line the gravel drive. The porch is not lit.
His family does not live with him. I knew that before coming here. Fucking convenient.
I tap my fingers on my steering wheel. Should I give him time to eat? What if he throws up all he’s ingested once I start? I think about globs of vomit on my oxfords and realize
that he will not have the time to get that food in his system if I have anything to do with
- it.
My phone buzzes on the dashboard. I grab it.
“You left Valentino Lorca’s dinner early,” Javi says on the line. “Couldn’t wait to be rid of your proposed bride?”
“That is not funny. Even your uncle dares not call her my bride.” My voice is deathly calm as always. But probably, that is the problem.
“Woah, easy.” Javi laughs. “I did try to warn your father. That you’re a screwed–up ass.”
“Well now he knows,” I say drily. “He’s not pushing the topic anymore but I’m sure a part of him thinks I will sleep over it and wake up convinced the next morning.”
There is a grin in his voice. “Anyway, Vito and I are getting wasted later tonight. The Don is making a trip tonight and won’t be back until next tomorrow. But I’m sure you already know.”
“I do. He told me on the deck. He’s going to Las Vegas.”
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