by Bethany-Kris
Bill blinked, and his gaze drifted from the gun to Renzo. His hand twitched, and inched slightly to the right. Renzo didn’t miss it, or what it might mean.
“Know that if you pull a weapon on me, I will paint your fucking office with your brain matter.” Renzo nodded at the picture on the desk that had been turned to face the doorway. It showcased an older woman with blonde hair, and a young man sitting next to her on a bench. “That your wife and son?”
He didn’t know.
He was just guessing.
Given the way Bill’s hands dropped to the top of the desk, fully in view, Renzo assumed he had hit the nail right on the head with whoever that was in the pictures.
“What do you want?” Bill demanded.
“I told you—information.”
“About what?”
“Not what, who. The Marcellos. More specifically, Lucian Marcello, or better yet, his daughter, Lucia. I need you to get me information. Where they are, or what they’re doing. I need you to find all that shit out, and get it back to me. Preferably without you running off at the mouth about what you’re doing for me. Because if you do, I keep this gun loaded, and ready. Do you get me?”
The man just blinked.
Like a fucking idiot.
“Do you have a death wish?” Bill asked. “You don’t go around asking about the Marcello family, Renzo. You certainly don’t go around asking about one of the three brothers, or one of their daughters. Not if you don’t want them asking why you’re asking.”
Renzo smiled again in that cold way of his. “Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it, Bill? By all appearances, it won’t be me asking anything about Lucian, or his daughter. It’ll be you. They’ll want to know why you are asking, and they’ll come here for that information. By then, I’ll already either have what I want, or be long fucking gone. So, I guess you’re left with a couple of options, aren’t you?”
The man behind the desk swallowed hard. “And what options are those?”
“Simple. One, you refuse and I kill you right here and now. I will move onto someone else to get the information I want. Or two, you start making some phone calls … or maybe you call some people in who are stupid enough that they won’t give a shit if you ask some questions. You make sure you’re careful, so the Marcellos don’t know it’s you asking about them and their business. Then, you pass the information off to me, and you can go back to yelling at your cooks, and getting paid dirty money to overlook the crates of cocaine they keep stashed in the back room.”
Renzo tipped his gun to the side a bit, amused at how Bill’s eyes followed the weapon carefully. “See, then if you’re careful, you won’t have them coming back on you. You can go back to what you were doing before like this never even happened. And I expect you to do that, because if you ever even breathe my name to someone, it won’t just be you I come back for, Bill.”
He glanced at the picture on the desk to make his point clear before adding, “I mean, it’s your choice. If you need a bit to think about it and choose, I apparently have all the time in the world. I don’t mind waiting.”
“You’re asking for trouble, Renzo.”
Not really.
This wasn’t trouble.
Trouble found him months ago.
Trouble’s name is Lucia.
And he loved her to fucking death.
• • •
Patience, as Renzo had come to learn over his lifetime, paid off for everyone who was willing to wait long enough to get what they wanted. It took Bill three entire days to come up with some kind of useable information for Renzo, but damn, when that information really came through, it couldn’t have been better.
Lucian Marcello apparently did most of his business in a restaurant he owned in upper Manhattan. Of course, Renzo wasn’t at all surprised that he’d never even heard of the business’s name before considering he probably couldn’t afford to fucking eat there, and the one time he’d made a trip into upper Manhattan was to do an exchange with a guy who was hanging out of the back of a high class bar. The alleyway smelled like shit, though.
He never forgot that.
Nonetheless, the information Bill got about Lucian’s favorite spot to dine, work, and basically do everything else while he was in the city meant the man spent a hell of a lot of time there. On weekends, his family tended to join him, as well.
It was a fucking long shot.
Renzo had no reason to believe that Lucia might be at the restaurant just because he knew her father was likely to be there. But he also wouldn’t ever know if he didn’t make his way over, and try to find out. Besides, he wasn’t really going there for Lucian. He was going there because he knew one way or the other, Lucia would find out he showed up, and asked about her.
That’s all he needed.
For her to know.
Renzo was going to pay the pizzeria owner back by literally never stepping foot near the guy’s business again. It was his guarantee. After all, hadn’t the guy done enough for him? He figured so.
As he came closer to the restaurant in question, Renzo pulled his phone out of his pocket, and checked the time. A little after eleven in the afternoon, which meant, no doubt … at least Lucian would be at the restaurant. But given it was the weekend, it was also very possible that the man’s family might be there, too.
Stuffing the phone back in its spot, he pulled the cigarette from behind his ear, and the lighter out of the breast pocket of his leather jacket. Lighting it up, he took a heavy drag as he came to stand just in front of the business. On one side, he noticed wide windows that showcased regular diners. On the other side of the gold-plated doors was a wall of mirrored glass—also windows, he knew, but he just couldn’t see inside.
Parked on the curb, still running, was a black Mercedes. Inside the driver’s seat, Renzo found a man chatting on his cell phone, and not paying him any mind, God knew he’d seen enough black cars with inconspicuous drivers dropping shit off to him over the years to know that was a Capo’s car.
Or … a Marcello.
Perfect.
The best way to get someone’s attention inside was to get the attention of whoever was watching the outside. Because that was the thing about these people … someone was always watching their backs. They didn’t get to the top alone.
Settling himself with a breath, because it was fucking now or never, he supposed, Renzo stepped up to the running vehicle, and leaned against the back. He didn’t do anything but stand there and smoke his cigarette. He didn’t even stare at the guy inside the car, or at the business in front of him.
Frankly, the ground seemed more interesting.
It took the guy inside the car all of two seconds to realize someone was touching the car. He got out with a scowl already in place, and looking like he was built to be a linebacker on a football field. That didn’t bother Renzo a bit, though. He’d figured out that the bigger someone was, the harder they fell when they came for him.
“Hey, move your fucking ass, cafone,” the guy barked.
Renzo passed him a dismissive look. “Lucian inside?”
That made the man hesitate in his next step. His following statement was meant as a deflection or even a denial, but his hesitation had been enough to tell Renzo he found someone he was looking for. And yes, Lucian was very likely inside.
“I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about, man,” the guy said.
Renzo nodded, and took another drag from his smoke. “Sure. Anyway, I’m not going anywhere until I see Lucian, or his daughter, if she’s here. I’d really prefer her, but you know, I’ll take either.”
It was the dart of the man’s gaze to the mirrored windows that confirmed Renzo’s hope that Lucia was at the business having an early lunch with her family. So, now it was just a waiting game.
“I can always move your stupid ass,” the guy threatened.
“You could, but how are you going to do that when I stick a knife in your throat and let you bleed out on the ground here.
You’re going to tell me that the Marcellos don’t have a bunch of cops on their payroll? Let me guess, you’re what, muscle? Disposable, then. Instead of having a bunch of cops around here causing them problems, they’re just going to clean up whatever mess I make, and throw you in the river to wash up on the other side.”
Renzo smirked over at the man. “But go ahead, put your hands on me. I bet it’ll be a good lesson for you, asshole.”
NINETEEN
Lucia saw Renzo first. Kind of fucking amazing, considering she had spent most of the lunch doing her very best to ignore her father across the table despite all his efforts to engage her in conversation. In doing so, she had kept her gaze on the wall, the floor, or her untouched plate of food.
Tension really was not a good enough word for what it felt like in their home lately, but this had been her entire life for the last week. No car, no phone, and when she went home, even her laptop had been taken from her room. She suddenly went from feeling like an eighteen-year-old almost out on her own, and in control of her life, to a teenager being punished like a child.
She might have noticed Renzo first, but her father wasn’t very far behind. Lucian followed Lucia’s gaze to where she was staring out the mirrored windows, and let out a noise that sounded like disbelief and anger all rolled into one. Lucia might have smiled if she wasn’t still so fucking mad at her dad.
No matter how much she tried to explain to him about Renzo, and her, he just didn’t care to hear it. He’d made up his mind on everything, and nothing she could say was going to change it. Her mother, for the most part, rarely stepped in. But to be fair, Jordyn also didn’t really take a side, either.
She was neutral ground, not stepping in between her husband and daughter’s feud, but also not making it any worse than it was with her own opinions.
Lucia didn’t know whether to be grateful, or not.
“What in the hell is he doing here?” Lucian asked, his voice a rough growl. “And how did he even know we were here to begin with?”
Her father’s gaze swung to her, but Lucia sat quietly and unmoved in her chair.
“Well?” he demanded.
Lucia arched a brow. “You think I called him to let him know I was going to be here today? I didn’t even know I was going to have to come here today, Daddy. You made me come because apparently, I can’t just be unhappy with you at home, I have to be unhappy with you out in public, too.”
Her father’s gaze hardened.
Lucia was still unbothered.
Where was the lie?
“How else would he—”
“I don’t even have a cell phone to use, or my computer. You’ve taken away my car, so it’s not like I can drive to tell him, either. Oh, and we don’t even have a house phone because everybody has their own cell phone, so I couldn’t use that to call him. It wasn’t me.”
Lucian still didn’t look like he believed her, but his desire to argue with her waned quickly enough. That was the thing about her father. He was stubborn as hell when he believed he was right about something, or doing the right thing. Like this whole shitshow with her and Renzo. But at the same time, he wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed discontent or discomfort in his own life and home.
A double-edged sword, really.
He caused this.
“Well, he isn’t getting what he wants,” her father muttered, throwing down his napkin. “I can promise you that.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means get a good look at him because soon, he’ll be gone.”
“Lucian,” Jordyn murmured.
Lucia glanced at her mother, but quickly went back to her father. “You know, I’ve tried for the last week to get you to understand, Daddy. I’ve explained over and over again that this is my life, and not yours. That I can see whoever I want, whenever I want, and you don’t get a say about it. I have let you tell me whatever you want, take away my things, and for the most part, I didn’t really fight you on it. But I’m done.”
“Excuse me?”
Standing from the table, Lucia caught Renzo’s form in the corner of her eye again as she grabbed the light jacket off the back of her chair, and slipped it on. It’d only been a week since she had last been with him, and yet she still felt like she had to look him over for any sign of a change. A week was too long to be away from him. Her heart hurt. She didn’t know how to explain it any better than that, but every day that passed where she didn’t get to see or speak to Renzo only made it worse.
Fuck her father.
Screw what he wanted.
Lucia was not playing nice anymore.
“I’m eighteen,” Lucia said, shrugging on her jacket, picked up her purse from the floor, and meeting her father’s gaze at the same time. “I can go where I please, and do what I please. I can be with whoever I want to be with, too.”
She didn’t miss the tension tightening her father’s shoulders under his suit at those words. She’d said these things to him before, but not with much seriousness. More like she was repeating shit to him that he should have already known.
Lucia wasn’t stupid. She knew her father thought he was protecting her, but he didn’t need to. And he was entirely wrong about Renzo, but he just didn’t care to understand or learn about the man she loved. Lucian was stuck in his feelings because he was terrified that what happened to her older sister, Liliana, might happen to her.
Because Renzo was the unknown.
He was not their kind of people.
Renzo was him, and his life didn’t have to be like theirs for Lucia to love him, and want to be with him. He didn’t have to be like them for her to know he was as good as he was ever going to get, and she wanted him just the way he was.
“While you are under my roof,” her father said through gritted teeth, “you will follow my rules, Lucia.”
She nodded. “Okay, so then I will leave.”
In her chair, Jordyn sucked in a sharp breath, but for the most part, kept her gaze on the table. Lucia knew her mom was silently hoping her daughter and husband would work this out on their own. That soon, this nonsense would pass, and they could go back to the family they had been before Renzo rushed into Lucia’s life like a tidal wave coming in from the ocean.
His wave picked her up, dragged her out to sea, and hell, she might be drowning, but at least she was going to go with him. That’s all she wanted.
She didn’t need them to understand or like it.
It was still going to happen.
“You’re going to move out?” Lucian asked, smirking a bit. “Really?”
“I don’t see why not,” Lucia replied, shrugging as she pushed in her chair at the table. “Wasn’t I already leaving for California, anyway? Were you going to follow me there to keep an eye on me, too, or …?”
“Lucia, be kind,” her mother said softly. “He’s your father, and—”
“Then maybe he should act like it, Ma!”
God.
She hadn’t meant to yell, and certainly not at her mother. Of all the people Lucia was angry with lately, her mother was most certainly not one of them.
“Sorry,” she quickly whispered.
Jordyn glanced up, and offered her daughter a small smile. “It’s okay, I know you’re—”
“A spoiled girl acting like a spoiled girl,” her father interjected gruffly. “Sit down, Lucia. You’re not going anywhere, and you’re certainly not going out there. I don’t care if I have to have someone come in here to watch you, and make sure you don’t move an inch. You will not be going out there to see that young man.”
Really?
“Fuck you,” Lucia uttered, turning for the door.
She said it. She was eighteen.
He couldn’t keep her here.
“Lucia!” her father shouted.
She heard his footsteps coming behind her, but she didn’t care. Spinning around on her heel to see he was only a few feet away from her, Lucia pointed at her father, and then back at herself. Right o
ver the spot where her heart was beating out of control and in so much pain with each squeeze because maybe … Jesus, maybe if she told him how she felt inside because Renzo was too far away, and had been for this whole week, then her father might understand this wasn’t something she wanted to do.
It was more than that.
She needed to do it.
She needed Renzo.
“Right here,” she murmured, pushing the tip of her finger against her chest, “it’s killing me right here, Daddy. It hurts all the time because this is not where I want to be, don’t you get that? I’m sorry if you don’t like that, or this scares you, but I can’t keep hurting in here because I’m not with him. I want to be with him.”
Lucian hesitated in his next step.
Lucia didn’t move an inch.
Behind her father, Jordyn stood from the table. Her mother’s gaze drifted from her daughter near the doorway, and Renzo still standing outside where he looked as though he was chatting with the enforcer whose car he was currently leaning against like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Lucian,” Jordyn said softly.
“What?”
“Let her go.”
Lucian’s head swung around, and his gaze widened. “What did you just say?”
“I said let her go.”
“How can I—”
“Because she has to make her own choices, and if those mean mistakes, then that’s what it means. They are hers to make, not yours or ours. I thought we learned that, didn’t we? We decided that years ago that they wouldn’t be influenced or controlled by this life, and us. We decided that, Lucian.”
“Bella—”
“Lucia, you may go with the young man, if that’s what you want to do,” her mother whispered. “We won’t stop you, and we won’t step in, either. I promise.”
Lucia hesitated.
She went between her father, and her mother. Both were people she loved—entirely, though sometimes, like now, her father made her wonder why. Both were pillars of strength and support, or they had been for her entire life. She didn’t want to disappoint them, but this wasn’t about them, either.
