Blood Always

10

It was more like the hatred bottled up inside me was leaking out one drop at a time. “If this is what you need me to do, I’ll do it. You know I’d give my life for the family.” “I hate that this falls on your shoulders, but it needs to be done.” I nodded, pulling myself from his grasp. I needed to escape his intensity and the emotion swelling in the air around me. The room already felt like a pressure cooker—if the dial turned any higher, there were bound to be casualties. “If someone has to go into the lion’s den, I’d rather it was me. I’ve got the background to take care of myself. The other girls would be so far in over their heads, they’d never find the surface.” “That’s very admirable of you, but I do have one other request.” Dad pursed his lips. “If you do this, I need you to promise me to give Matteo a chance—to set aside your grudges and put him on equal footing as any other man.” I whipped back around to face him. “He’s not any other man. I can’t just ignore that.” “Promise me, Maria. The marriage is for the family, but this … this is for me. Promise me you’ll give him a chance to prove himself rather than condemn him before you’ve even met. And if I’m not enough reason, do it because an alliance will never happen if our people see through to your true feelings. They look to those of us at the top for guidance. If you hate your own husband, they’ll see it, and the whole thing will have been pointless.” He paused, an uncharacteristic hint of pleading in his eyes. His request should have been a minor one in relation to accepting a strategic marriage, but emotions are often unpredictable. The anger that hadn’t shown itself earlier suddenly came barreling to the surface. It was a thing not of this world—too hideous and malformed to be human. It wasn’t marriage that lured the creature from its cage. It was my father’s request, like chum in shark infested waters, it made the beast grow rabid. Marrying De Luca was one thing, but treating him with respect? That would be downright painful. He wasn’t deserving of my pity, let alone my respect. Seeing my reaction, my father’s hands lifted placatingly. “Maria, calm down.” My eyelids drifted shut, and I took steadying breaths through my nose until I could think without a red haze clouding my vision. There were plenty of people who were worthless piles of dog s**t, and I still managed not to kill them. Surely, De Luca would be no different. We would both be busy and would only need to put on a show during public outings. I could do this. Opening my eyes, I met my father’s hard gaze. “Fine. I promise to give him a chance.” “Like any other man?” “Like any other man.” The words were forced through gritted teeth. “You know I wouldn’t ask such a thing if I didn’t have respect for him. We’ve spoken on a number of occasions, and he has impressed me each time.” “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes so hard it was a miracle they stayed in their sockets. “I better get going. Sounds like I have some research to do.” “Any other man means no research, Maria.” “I would research any other man!” “Well, you’re not going to research this one. You’re going to meet him with a blank slate, and that means no staking out his apartment or deep dives into his credit history.” “Fine.” I snatched my purse off the sofa and turned for the door. “Maria,” my dad called in a warning tone that gave me pause enough to look back. “While you’re here, why don’t you tell me about your fishing trip. You did go out last night, correct?” I played a number of roles in the outfit, most of which were on the business end of our dealings. Despite my Krav Maga training and my unerring accuracy with a gun, I wasn’t an ideal enforcer because of my size and gender. I would have enjoyed the position, but my father had never allowed it. As one of the handful of made women in the entire New York territory, my most lucrative contribution was information. A wig and some artful makeup, and I was unrecognizable to the men on my radar—that was assuming their eyes ever made it up past my t**s. I trolled seedy neighborhoods, gleaning bits of information wherever I could. Our men reported on what they gathered as well, but it was best for upper management to have its own set of ears on the streets. We weren’t foolish enough to think that our soldiers and associates were any better than the schmucks I milked of all the intel they could provide. It was good to keep some things private. Just asking a soldier what he’d heard on a subject was information that could end up in the wrong hands. My father had specifically asked me to see what I could gather on the Gallo’s hunt for Sal. They were just as hungry to get their hands on him as we were, and we didn’t trust them to share if they discovered any leads on his whereabouts. Most soldiers didn’t know jack s**t, but it was amazing what could be pieced together with a few tidbits of information. A meet taking place at a certain location, or a capo being absent at Sunday Mass— they were all pieces to a bigger puzzle. But in this particular instance, my evening mission had been derailed by a tipsy Italian. “I did go out, but the night was a bust.” His lips pursed as he nodded. “I see. Well then, you ought to know that I got a call from Luca just before you arrived. He informed me that last night Frederico Bianchi, Diego Venturi’s cousin, was hit by a truck in a tragic accident.” His eyes narrowed. “He didn’t survive.” My features remained perfectly schooled. “Karma’s a b***h. I’m sure Alessia will be relieved to know the man who helped Sal kidnap her is no longer alive.” “Indeed.” He lifted his chin, seemingly in answer to his own question. “Now that we’re allied with the Gallos, I expect there will be no further accidents without my knowledge.” My lips peeled back in a grin that would have sent small children screaming for their mothers. “Daddy, haven’t you ever heard? Sometimes accidents happen.” He shook his head slowly and waved me away. I happily obliged.