Gibbs sighs and narrows his eyes at me. He’s never seen me pissed. Not many people have. I’m not good when I’m pissed off with shit. I lose my cool and go over the top.
“Donny, the fucker could have left town, maybe even the country after the other night,” Gibbs says and rests against the edge of the balcony.
I don’t want to hear that.
I don’t want to hear that Mario could have fucking left town or the country because it means we fucked up.
The thing is, we didn’t suspect him then. Neither me nor Alex suspected him as being part of any of this shit, or we would have taken him down to the basement and beat the fucking shit out of him before we gave any information away that something was going on.
Now he’s nowhere to be found. Of course, he’s not answering my calls, and he’s taken some of the staff with him. The fucking staff who run the place. All this in three days. It’s fucking Tuesday, and I can’t find him anywhere.
If this were Chicago, I knew he would have been found already. Here, though, where there are more powerful crime families than our little city, not so much.
Any shit could be happening, and I don’t know where to start. I’m not ready yet to admit that this could be above me. And what I need to do is cool off. I’m just pissed off that I couldn’t find him, and I don’t like loose ends.
“Donny, look, Amadeo is here.” Gibbs motions with his head toward my guest of the day and his brother walking up the boardwalk.
I really need to cool down. Me looking like I’m going to blow up any minute will not be good in front of these people. This is a test for me, and Claudius will not be happy if I screw up. Happy boss, happy life.
Amadeo and Leo get on board the yacht and make their procession toward us. I chose to meet here because it’s out in the open. I’ve got men stationed around the boat and Lois and Saul on the roof of the club in case this meeting goes south.
The brothers look alike, although Amadeo is in his late fifties, a good fifteen years older than Leo. He’s also taller. Leo, however, has more muscle.
Both have dark olive skin that’s tanned from the sun. Both have jet-black hair with gray streaks adorning the temples and they both walk with the ease and confidence of men with authority.
“Donny,” Amadeo says when he reaches me.
We shake hands.
“Thank you for coming,” I say and purposely don’t introduce Gibbs. They notice, and it should be the first sign that something is off. No names means I don’t want to share certain things. Not giving a name in a meeting like this that Gibbs is obviously part of is a sign that we are not on good terms.
“That is no problem,” Amadeo replies and glances at Leo.
“Please sit,” I say, gesturing for them to sit around the table.
They sit together. Gibbs sits next to me.
“Although it’s great to meet one of Claudius Morientz’ men, I’m surprised at the impromptu request,” Amadeo states.
Impromptu would have been him agreeing to see me on Sunday when I called his office. I had to wait for three days to see his ass, and I already don’t like his attitude. I guess since he’s the underboss in his family, that makes him think he can act like he’s the boss of everybody.
“The situation called for it,” I inform him and straighten up.
“Oh, and what situation is this?” he asks, his accent stronger with the hint of annoyance.
I reach into the envelope I kept to the side and pull out the pictures. I have no idea how he’s going to react, but my men down below were supposed to check him to make sure neither he nor Leo were carrying guns. I have my piece in my pocket just in case they have a gun shoved up their asses they’re thinking of pulling on me.
I hand him the pictures, and his skin goes noticeably paler.
He tenses, and when Leo observes his reaction, he takes the photos from him and looks at them.
I love when I catch people in the shit they think they can get up to and get away with. It’s a good feeling, especially when I can see them trying to come up with excuses and can’t think of one thing that doesn’t sound like bullshit.
“I can explain this,” Amadeo says with a slight stutter.
“How? What are you gonna say that doesn’t look like what it is?” I challenge. “Looks to me like you’re supplying girls to a human trafficker. We are not into that.”
“It was just the one time,” Leo counters, speaking for the first time.
“I don’t give a shit if it was the first or the hundredth time. It’s not going to happen again, and not on our turf.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we’re done with you.”
He looks back at me like I just slapped him. Squaring off his shoulders, he glares at me, eyes blazing.
“You can’t do that. I want to speak with Claudius.”
“Like fuck. You can call him if you want to, but right now, you’re getting me, and the words coming out of my mouth are as good as his.” I steel my spine and make sure I look him right in the eye, staring him down the same way his eyes are boring into me. I won’t be the first to look away either and make him think he’s intimidating me. I stare until he’s forced to blink. Fucker.
His gaze flicks to the photos in Leo’s hands, and he hardens his expression.
“We’ve been in this alliance for many years. My family has been in business with you people since before any of us were born, and you’re telling me you’re done? This is business. Sometimes you take opportunities when they arise.”
This asshole must be on crack because there’s no way he’s justifying his actions as business.
“Human trafficking with a wanted prick is not an opportunity, Amadeo. It’s asking for trouble. You got our names mixed up in there, so it begs the question of whether you know who you’re truly working with and if you know what you’re doing. Whatever the fuck it is, we want no part of it.”
“One little mistake, and that’s it, a fifty-year alliance and business contract over?”
“Yeah,” I answer simply.
“One little thing, and this is it?” He bares his teeth at me.
“This isn’t one little thing though. It’s human trafficking.” He doesn’t seem to get it. It just makes me wonder what the hell must be going on in his head. That leads me to the next question. “Where’d the girls go, Amadeo?”
He tenses and cuts Leo a sharp glance. “That is none of your concern.”
“No? I didn’t think you’d tell me. You sold them to Xiou on our property. That makes it my business.”
“You people are a disgrace to La Costa Nostra. Business is business. There is nothing clean about what we do. We do what we do.”
“We do what we do, but there are some things that are plain evil. Young girls, Amadeo? You’d be okay if your daughter was taken, your sister, your niece?”
“Fuck you, prick. Fortunately, I do not have a daughter, sister, or a niece.” He rises to his feet and glowers at me. Leo follows suit, and so do we.
Gibbs and I stand, ready for them if they decide to jump us.
“Where did Xiou take the girls, Amadeo?” I try again, and he sneers.
“Grunt. You can go fuck yourself. I don’t have to answer shit from you. You just ended our alliance and contract. Remember?”
“Don’t come back around here. Or, nowhere you know is owned by the Morientz’s. We see you around, it’s kill on sight,” I threaten. Of course, I know he won’t like that.
It’s not customary to threaten one of the bosses of a family like this and live to tell the tale. I know who I am, though, and who my people are. So does he.
Leo places a hand on Amadeo’s shoulder and whispers something to him. I can’t hear him clearly, but I make out a few words. He’s trying to calm him down.
“Donatello, you don’t want trouble with me. I get it you’re a grunt trying to work his way up, but you need to watch your back.” Amadeo fumes.
“You too,” I inform him and step a littl
e closer so he can see his words don’t faze me. “Sometimes it’s the little guys you need to watch out for. The grunts like me. They’re the ones who kill you in your sleep.”
“We shall see about that,” he answers with an arched brow, then he turns on his heel and walks away.
Leo looks from me to Gibbs and leaves too.
I wait until I hear them taking the last steps leading off the boat before I turn to Gibbs.
He’s already looking at me. I appreciate his presence here. Having him sit in with me was almost like having one of the other guys. I’m always with Alex or one of the guys from the crew. This is the first time that I’ve had to deal with people like Amadeo by myself.
“You alright?” Gibbs asks.
“Fuck,” I breathe, running my hand through my hair. “I don’t know, man. Why do I feel like that’s not over?”
“’Cos it’s not. The hotel was a good setup for them. Cops and others know to steer clear because this is Claudius’ property. They were hidden well doing good business, and the club here was an easy spot to lure away young women. It was all easy money. They’re not going to go away quietly.”
I release a ragged breath. “I just hope their fear of enraging Claudius is enough. They won’t come for me unless I piss on them. This meeting achieved nothing more than to tell them we aren’t doing business with them anymore.”
“Sometimes that’s all you can do,” Gibbs says with a nod. “Donny, he’s not gonna know where Xiou took those girls. Xiou wouldn’t have told him.”
“I figured, but I thought I’d ask. I could see it was bothering you.” It was clear it was a sensitive subject for him when he told us about it. I’d never seen him behave the way he did, ready to jump ship and state his stance before we could say anything.
He nods. “It reminded me of a case. I was too late, and the girl died. She was a close friend’s daughter.”
I stare at him and instantly, I understand him. He’s had a really tough ride, like most of us. He was blamed for his wife’s death. When he was cleared of the charges after being in prison for her murder, he decided to become who he is now. I know to this day, he’s still looking for the person who killed her. I didn’t know he’d been touched by more death.
“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know.”
“That’s okay. It was before I started working with you guys, so I wouldn’t have mentioned it.” He gives me a curt nod. “But yeah, it struck a nerve with me. That’s how I know people like Xiou only give minimal information. I take it Mario was an enabler, kept the coast clear and provided the facilities to make shit happen.”
“I need to find him, Gibbs. If I’m going to take over business here, I want to know what the fucker got up to. I want no stone unturned. I don’t want dealings with The Triad or any kind of cartel.” I want to know everything there is to know.
“Well I’ll go looking, then.”
“Thanks. Take Lois and Saul with you.”
He nods and leaves me.
I need a fucking cigarette. I reach into my pocket and feel for my pack of Marlboro, but what I feel is that damn bracelet.
Fuck.
I’m an asshole. I don’t even remember putting that thing in this jacket. I pull out the bracelet and look at it. In the bright sunlight, it sparkles, and the crystals turn blue as they catch the reflection of the sea. The blue reminds me of Willow’s eyes.
I gotta get this chick out of my head.
She’s doing a fucking number on me, and I can’t have that. I can’t keep this thing if every time I see it, it stirs up some memory of her.
Things like that aren’t good. I scrunch it up in my palms, ready to launch it into the sea, and I raise my hand to do it but stop myself.
What if it was important to her?
Like an heirloom or something. Maybe it’s sentimental. I couldn’t just throw it away.
Maybe I’m just thinking of shit, but if the shit’s real, then I should give it back to her. It’s not mine to keep, and it’s not cheap fashion jewelry crap. The crystals are real.
She should have it back, and yes, maybe I am thinking up an excuse to see her. It’s better, though, that I give it to her than do anything else, and I shouldn’t keep it. I didn’t realize how close she got to me.
So close I already shot myself in the foot by checking up on her. I shouldn’t know where she lives or that she’s staying with her aunt.
One trip. That’s it, then I’m done.
Who knows what shit I might have stirred today. Women are a weakness I can’t afford. I can’t have this doll on my mind. I worked too long and hard for an opportunity like this to blow it by not being a hundred percent focused.
Chapter Seven
Willow
God, please give me strength to talk to this man. Please don’t let me breathe fire.
“I’m taking the things out of the building today, Willow,” William says for the tenth time.
He’s doing that thing where he’s ignoring what I’m saying like an asshole and just repeating himself like a broken record. It’s an argument I know I won’t win.
“You didn’t give me enough time. How can you do this? Bastard.” This is today’s shit.
Dad called me earlier to let me know William closed the gallery last night and told all the staff not to come back. The building is all taped up like it’s part of a crime scene. Dad sent pictures, and William isn’t cooperating with anybody.
“Like I keep saying. I’m taking the things out today, Willow,” he repeats again with emphasis on my name. “You had time. Porsha called you on Saturday. Today is Wednesday. I thought the minute you knew the building would be sold, you’d take measures to get your things out,” he argues.
“You can’t do this. That’s my business. I expected a conversation to take place so I could make proper arrangements to get my things out and inform my staff. How can you be so evil?” I bark. I’m shouting now, sounding like I’ve lost my damn mind. I don’t care though. This is shit. He’s sunken to a new low, and I can’t wrap my head around it.
It’s all happening too fast, and all I know is that my stuff is going to be thrown away.
“It’s not evil. It’s my building, and I have people interested in buying the place. The workmen will remove your things in the next few hours. If you want to get someone down here, I’ll let them in, and they can sort through your shit.”
Tears run down my cheeks. I’m crying again. Fucking hell. This man is such a jerk. Such an asshole. I can’t believe I was ever with him.
“You won’t even give me a day?” I try.
“No. I won’t. I don’t care what you believe. You and I broke up months ago. Why the fuck would I want you in my building?”
“You prick, you bought it for me!”
“Well, I’m taking it back. This conversation is over, Willow. I have to go.”
The line cuts, and I don’t get the chance to respond.
My hands tremble as I look down at the phone, and I shake my head at the situation.
I manage to send Dad a message asking him to get my stuff, and then I break down. Once again, I’m the fool. My escape to Italy shouldn’t have happened. I should be there.
I’ve been calling William since I spoke to Dad. Each time, his phone went straight to voicemail. I left three messages and decided against a forth knowing he wasn’t going to get back to me until he decided when he wanted to speak to me. That’s what he’s like, even in an emergency.
I knew it would have been very late in the night and bordering the early hours of the morning, but sparing the respect for the time was the last thing on my mind since he couldn’t spare the respect for my belongings.
I’m just praying Dad can do something. It would break my heart if William threw away any of my paintings. These past months, I’ve seen a very vindictive side to him I never knew existed. It’s hard to believe he’s the same man who told me he loved me and asked me to marry him.
I hate him, and I hate all that he’
s put me through. I never even had that spell of time where I experienced the heartbreak and loss of him. I hated him from the minute he walked away from me at the altar. Then I hated him even more when I discovered his true self and got to know the real him.
Fuck. Rage swells within my chest, and I throw the phone across the room. It hits the wall at the same time the doorbell rings.
The last thing I want to do is see anyone, and if I were back in LA, I wouldn’t answer the door, but shit, I can’t piss Lurlene off by not getting the door if she might have a delivery or something.
I grab a tissue from the Kleenex box on the coffee table, dry my tears as best as I can, then head to the door.
There are footsteps on the veranda outside. I look through the peephole, and my blood runs cold inside my veins then it heats up. It’s a dance of confusion because I can’t believe who it is I’m seeing standing there on the other side of the door.
Donny.
It’s him.
He’s dressed in a white button-down dress shirt similar to what he wore the other night, and he’s got the first few buttons undone. His hair is slightly tousled, and the wind floats over the spiky strands, lifting them slightly. In the bright sunlight, his eyes look even more striking, and fuck… he’s here.
I’m momentarily stunned, but only momentarily. The same force that drew me to him the other night takes over, and I open the door just as he was about to step away.
Joy bubbles inside me. After the conversation I just had with William, I’m surprised I can feel any sort of emotion that resembles joy. It’s undoubtedly there though, right inside my heart, swelling in a bubble of excitement, and I know I shouldn’t be this happy to see him.
He stares back at me, looking me over like he’s trying to assess me. He must notice that I was crying. I’m not the sort of person who can dab my eyes and look fine. When I cry my whole face goes puffy and my eyes red almost in an instant.
He takes a step forward, continuing his silent observation, and I stare back at him, questions filling my mind.
How did he find me?
How does he know where I live?
Why is he here?
The Sting of Love: USA Today Bestselling Author Page 6
