by Bethany-Kris
She cursed under her breath, a dark laugh following right after.
“No, no,” he muttered when she grabbed onto his arm to slow him. “You know you don’t wanna—”
“I have to.”
He stopped fucking her instantly. “Really, right now?”
“Just let me answer it.”
“Fuck,” Renzo muttered, but it sounded a hell of a lot more like a whine than anything else. He pulled away from her like it was the last thing he wanted to do, and all she could do was laugh. “Keep laughing, and watch what happens when you get back in this bed.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Goddamn.”
She crawled off the bed, and headed after her ringing phone in the bag on the couch. She gave him a sexy wink over her shoulder as she pulled the phone out, and answered the call. She still had her eyes on Renzo the whole time.
“Hello?”
“Lucy, care to have dinner with me and a friend today?”
Lucia arched a brow, and turned her back to Renzo so she could talk to her brother. “John?”
“Who else calls you from this number?”
“I didn’t check the ID.”
“Ah, anyway … dinner today with me and a friend.” John cleared his throat, adding, “Actually, you might want to see if you can get Renzo to come along, but stay in the background where he can’t be seen.”
Lucia didn’t like the sound of that. “Who is the friend?”
“It’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
John sighed. “Christian Savino. He’s thrown out a threat that he promises to follow through on if I don’t have a sit down with him over dinner, and—”
Lucia froze. “Bring me along, apparently.”
“His request.”
“Sounds like a demand.”
Lucia turned at the sound of the bed shifting to find Renzo was already off the mattress, and getting dressed. Maybe he could tell something was wrong by the sound of her voice, but he didn’t look pleased.
“Listen, John, I’m not involved in the family business, and I don’t want to be.”
“It can’t be avoided,” John said like he wasn’t giving her a chance to argue, “but you’ll be well protected the entire time. I need to get Christian the hell out of this city—my business with him is over.”
“Apparently not if you’re having dinner with him.”
“Like I said, he made some threats. I don’t like testing those. I don’t want to get into details, Lucia, but if there was any way I could do this without involving you, I would do it. He’s not giving me a choice.”
Fuck.
“I could leave—”
“It’s bigger than you; you’re just part of the demand. And it is only dinner.”
Right.
Only dinner.
“What time is the dinner?” she asked.
“Four.”
“Text me the address.”
“You got it, Lucy.”
She ignored the nickname.
Again.
Hanging up the phone, Lucia dropped it to her bag. Renzo was already beside her, then, and frowning.
“What now?” he asked.
Yeah, right.
Because it was always something.
• • •
“Pull over here,” Renzo murmured.
Lucia did as he asked, and pulled her rental to a stop about a block away from where she was supposed to have dinner with John and Christian. She didn’t know who else was going to be at the dinner, but she would soon find out.
Hopefully, a whole army of Marcello people to keep the other side in line. But who was to say?
Once she had the car in park, Renzo leaned over in the seat, and pressed a kiss to her lips. Fast and fleeting, she wanted to pull him back for another kiss the second he was moving away. He just gave her a wink, and reached for the handle on the door.
“I’ll walk the rest of the way, and then head in through the back,” he explained. “Keep an eye on things, and stay out of sight at the same time. Just know I will be watching, all right? Fuck all is gonna happen if I’m watching in the background, babe.”
Lucia nodded. “Got it.”
“You good?”
Was she?
Lucia didn’t know.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted.
Renzo smiled a little. “It’s just a dinner—you’ve had a few of them before.”
“Cute.”
“Just saying.”
“Not a sit down kind of dinner, though.”
“Look pretty; keep quiet.” Renzo shrugged when she glared at him. “Isn’t that what men like him want from a woman?”
“Well, probably.”
“Then do that, babe. You can be loud and mouthy and messy to me later. I like you that way, anyhow.”
Lucia smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand, then grabbed his jacket, and yanked him in for another burning kiss. She didn’t say goodbye to him as he stepped out of her car—it was just better not to.
Goodbye felt final.
This wasn’t the end.
Lucia pulled the car back onto the busy street as Renzo slipped into a shadowed alleyway. She wasn’t sure how she would explain to John where Renzo was without giving his position away to Christian, but that was something she would handle when, or if, it came up.
Soon, she was pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant her brother liked to use to do business. One that his wife, Siena, also worked out of a lot of the time. She wondered if that had been another demand of Christian’s for this dinner, or if it was something John had chosen to do.
After all, there was the upper hand in a person’s own territory, right?
Wasn’t that how it worked?
A familiar Marcello enforcer was already waiting to open Lucia’s door and take her keys before she’d even cut the engine on the rental. The man gave her a nod and smile as she stepped out of the vehicle.
“They’re already inside waiting for you,” the enforcer said. “They’re the only ones in there, so you can’t miss them.”
Yeah, like she was going to miss her brother.
Or … Christian.
Lucia knew there was a reason she hadn’t felt anything for that guy from the start. Maybe she hadn’t gotten the bad vibe from him, but she still hadn’t wanted to get close to him, either. That spoke volumes.
Fixing the belt on her tweed jacket, Lucia headed for the entrance of the restaurant. From the front, it looked closed for the day. Even the sign hanging on the door said they were closed—despite the daily hours stating the place should have been opened.
The door was unlocked, but she didn’t need to open it. A man she didn’t recognize was waiting behind the door, and as soon as she stepped up to it, he opened it for her, and welcomed her in with a smile.
He didn’t speak to her, so she didn’t speak to him. Not that she needed him to say anything—he pointed toward the back of the restaurant where she knew a private section had been setup for John to do business or whatever else throughout the day. He’d always been like their father in that way, doing business somewhere he could eat all at the same time.
Maybe it was an Italian thing.
Sure enough, Lucia found her brother and Christian Savino waiting in the private area. Both men were already standing when she came to the entryway, like they had been expecting her or knew she was right around the corner.
“Lucia,” her brother said stiffly.
His gaze drifted to Christian, but the man wasn’t paying any attention to John. His gaze was locked on her. “Lucia, good to see you again, mia cara.”
She didn’t like his sweet nothings, but she figured now was not the time to let the man know. How good would that be for this dinner?
“Now that you’re here,” Christian said, “we can finally get these negotiations started. Here, a chair.” He pointed at the one next to him. “Sit, why don’t you.”
John clea
red his throat. “She’ll sit by me.”
Her brother’s tone offered no room for argument, and Christian didn’t even bother to try. He shrugged, as if to silently say, suit yourself. Lucia came further into the private dining area, and took the available seat next to her brother.
She shrugged off her coat, and hung it on the back of the chair as her gaze drifted over the private dining area. There were men sitting at the other tables—some she recognized, and others, she didn’t. For the most part, they were watching the meeting happening between John and Christian, but a couple of them kept their eyes on the table in front of them.
Strange.
“As far as these … negotiations,” John said, his tone twisting around the final word, “I already told you, I am doing this to entertain you, Savino. But that is it—we will not be doing any business together.”
Christian laughed, and the sound made Lucia’s gaze shoot to him. So cold, and unaffected, she thought. How quickly his masks could flip—she’d not noticed that before. One second, the man seemed happy and charming, and in the next, his eyes were icy and dead.
“See, you’re mistaken there, Johnathan,” Christian said, tipping a hand over to show his empty palm. “There was money on the table; we’d discussed business, and dollars. I don’t leave money sitting on the table like that. Once you begin a business transaction with me, I intend for you to see it through.”
John’s jaw hardened. “No, you’re mistaken. See, once you thought to seek my family out—my sister—as collateral for this business deal between us, it was over. I decided that, and let you know. There was nothing else to say after that. You go your way, and I go mine. That’s what we’re here for today. This ends it.”
Christian smiled coldly. “She was back up, John. That’s all. If things didn’t go the way I wanted with the business deal through you, then I was going to use her to put you back in line. You can’t blame me for that, can you?”
Lucia blinked.
“What?” she asked.
He glanced her way, still cold and unaffected. “Standard business practice, sweetheart. Don’t be offended—you’re pretty, sure, but not my kind of thing, if you get what I mean.”
Jesus Christ.
She didn’t even know what to say to that.
Christian didn’t seem like he cared as he went right back to his conversation with John like he hadn’t left it in the first place. “So, this is how we’re going to go forward with this, John … During my time in New York, while you were busy trying to ignore me thinking that I would get the hint and go away, I was working. And do you know what I do best for work, John?”
Her brother swallowed hard. “No, what is that?”
“I’m a finder.” Christian grinned. “I find things. Things you care about—things you love. I find weaknesses, and then I find the ways to exploit them. I’ve had several weeks, and if we’re honest, several months leading up to this meeting to find lots of things about you and yours, John, and I know exactly how to work them. Your wife—kids. Your father, and mother … sisters, not including Lucia, here. I know details about their lives that you don’t know. How about your son … Lucky, is it?”
John stiffened in his chair, but he didn’t look away from Christian. “My oldest, yes.”
“Cute boy. Looks like his dad, huh?” Christian arched a brow, adding, “I heard he’s severely allergic to … what is it, shellfish? Shame, that.”
Lucia’s heart hurt.
Hurt for her brother, and her nephew.
Her brother said nothing, but she could see that muscle working in his cheek. Someone was threatening his son, and the rest of his family, but John was doing his best to keep himself in line. That in itself was a fucking feat. Lucia knew it.
“Imagine,” Christian said, “if someone were to … approach the fence that surrounds your son’s daycare, John. They could get close to the chain link, and call to him. Does he go by his name, or Lucky? Anyway,” the man said, flipping a hand as if to wave the question off, “imagine someone calling for him, and when he gets close enough, well, they’ll grab him and put a bit of that shellfish in his little hands. He only needs to touch it, right? That’s how allergic he is to it—I found that out. He’d be all the way at the other side of the playground, just far enough away that his teachers probably wouldn’t notice he was struggling for what, a minute or two.”
Christian flashed a smile. “Long enough, John.”
Without emotion to his tone, although Lucia didn’t know how her brother managed it, he asked, “What the fuck do you want?”
“Don’t you want to hear how I’ll go through the other people in your life? The plans I have for your wife. Or your sister—Lucia, I mean? She might not be my type, but damn, she’s got a mighty fucking pretty mouth.”
Bile rose in Lucia’s throat.
She barely held it back.
“The money on the table,” Christian said, “that’s what I want, John. I start a business deal, and I finish it. That’s how this works for me. There is no backing out. You don’t get to jump into your feelings because you don’t approve of how I do this business, you fucking got me?”
John tipped his chin back. “Yeah, I got you.”
Christian nodded, and stood from his chair. “Good—remember that. Renegotiations for our deal will begin in three days. If you’re not there with the money on the table to settle this out, I’ll come for yours. I’ll start with your sister, but your son will be a close second. And don’t for one fucking second think that you can hide them from me.”
“I’ll kill you,” John murmured.
The other man at the table laughed.
Lucia didn’t think it was funny at all.
Marcellos didn’t say those words easily. They didn’t throw threats just because. When a Marcello man promised to take a person’s life, it meant exactly what they said. They would do it, too. It might not be today, or tomorrow … but someday.
That was a guarantee.
“I’ve heard that before, John.” Christian snapped his fingers, and several men from the other tables in the room stood up, ready to leave. “We’ll be on our way—keep in mind, the few that you see here … triple that, and you might come close to the number of people I have watching your family. It only seems like I work alone, John, but the truth is … I never fucking do.”
“I’ll be in contact,” John said.
“Good.”
Christian turned to leave the table, but not before asking, “I heard the Marcello leadership has changed a great deal—I look forward to seeing how that changes things for me.”
Lucia didn’t miss the way her brother’s brow furrowed, but John stayed quiet. He didn’t ask any questions, and he let Christian leave in peace with the rest of his men. Smart, probably. There was a good chance that if they attacked Christian here, then his men would counter attack. John wasn’t the type to be irrational on his good days—he wouldn’t put Lucia in that kind of danger, she knew.
“John, you okay?” she asked once it was just her, him, and the Marcello men left in the room.
John said nothing, but stood from his chair. Lucia felt the need to comfort him, even if she knew it wouldn’t help. “It’ll be okay, John. We’ll figure it out.”
Right, she would help him figure it out.
Sure.
“I want someone on her when she even thinks about leaving her hotel room,” came a dark voice from the doorway.
Lucia found Renzo standing there. It seemed he did make it inside the business to watch from afar. Maybe that was why she hadn’t felt unsafe during the meeting despite the threats that had been thrown around.
She just knew he was there.
John nodded, but didn’t look up from his phone. “Yeah, that’s the plan, Ren. Her, and everybody else.”
Renzo didn’t look away from Lucia as he said, “Make sure of it.”
Then, to Lucia, John said, “When you go with Dad for his final chemo later this week, do not tell him wh
at happened here, Lucia. He’s sick—he doesn’t need to be in a state about this, all right? I’ve kept him mostly in the dark, a lot like the rest of them. We’re handling business; me and Andi, I mean. I don’t want Dad worrying about it. Got it?”
Lucia shrugged. “Okay, I got it.”
FIFTEEN
“Fuck,” Renzo snarled, his hand coming down to smack the steering wheel with probably more force than was necessary. Frankly, he didn’t care. He just needed to get some of this goddamn frustration out before he blew his top. Nothing ever ended well when he became angry, and reacted from it. At least, he’d learned that lesson before it was too late. “Where in the hell did he go?”
Pulling Lucia’s rental to the side of the street, he cut the engine. Thankfully, the dark tinted windows all the way around the vehicle kept him out of view, but that did nothing to help him right now.
Christian was getting smarter.
Or … more paranoid.
As soon as Renzo was sure that Lucia would be fine with her brother at the restaurant, he snatched her keys for the car, and headed after Christian. Maybe he hadn’t been doing such a good job at this whole … babysitter thing with the Savino prick. Renzo would knock it down to the fact that he didn’t know why he was following Christian, and he didn’t entirely trust whoever his boss was—M—for giving him this job without a clear reason.
Nonetheless, he hadn’t been keeping as close of an eye on Christian as he should. Renzo figured that since Christian was in New York anyway, and apparently doing business with the Marcellos, that they would have their eyes on the fool.
But that wasn’t the point of Renzo’s job.
He was supposed to watch, and report back.
The Marcellos likely kept an eye on Christian for a different reason.
Fuck.
Hindsight was always twenty-twenty.
Stepping out of the car, although that probably wasn’t the smartest thing, Renzo folded his hands behind his head, and turned one way, then the other. He glared at the empty street behind a bunch of warehouses down the left side, and then the right.
