Blood Always

19

In his ten years as boss, Angelo had nearly destroyed our reputation with other organizations in New York. I had hoped reaching out to the Irish, who focused their business outside the city, might lead to a viable working relationship. “Not great. Jimmy sent a couple of his boys. They said as long as Angelo was still in office, their answer was no. Said he was too unpredictable, if you can believe that. f*****g Irish. They got the market cornered on unpredictable.” I was disappointed, but not surprised. “It was a longshot, but worth trying. Thanks for talking to them.” “This needs to end, Matteo. I know you were good leaving things the way they were, but something’s gotta give. As Consigliere, it’s my job to advise, and this is me telling you … it’s time.” “I know. I’ve been working on a plan. He’ll be in California this month —it’ll happen then.” “Good.” Silence filled the line, and I started to wonder if we’d lost connection. “It’s for the best. You tell me how I can help, and I’ll do what I can.” “Let’s just hope the building doesn’t come down around us.” “We won’t let that happen without a fight.” “Later, Diego.” “Yeah.” The line went dead, and I clenched the phone in my hand. As if one major transition wasn’t enough, my world was about to get that much more difficult. *** “I told you not to show up at my place unannounced. Do you have some kind of learning disability or something?” Maria crossed her arms over her chest, pressing her full breasts up beyond the cut of her blouse. I could have told her I was coming, but where would the fun have been in that? “I’m here to pick you up. It’s time to head to your parents’ house for dinner.” Her lips parted in a full circle, sending a surge of blood to my d**k. “You’re inviting yourself to our family dinner? How did you even know about it?” I was trying not to laugh, but her tantrum was almost too much. “I had lunch with your father on Friday. He invited me. Now get your s**t together so we can go.” The withering look she gave me could have shriveled a rose to dust—a promise of pain and destruction. She positively vibrated with anger, lightening crackling in her silver eyes. But she didn’t launch herself at me as I was sure she wanted to—a testament to her practiced restraint. She simply turned on her heel, grabbed her purse in a white-knuckled grip, and glared at me. I hid an amused chuckle behind a cough. Our forty-five-minute drive to her parents’ house on Staten Island was devoid of conversation, which suited me just fine. I had a lot on my mind, and the car ride was the perfect opportunity to organize my thoughts. We were the last to arrive at the house. Judging by their array of expressions, her sisters and their men had not been informed we were coming. I shook hands with Nico first, then Sofia, who smiled politely. I had no history with them, so our introductions were casual and respectful. Alessia and Luca, on the other hand, were a different matter. “You remember, Alessia, I’m sure,” Enzo offered in greeting. “And this is her boyfriend, Luca. He’s a Russo man.” I offered my hand to Alessia, and while she clasped my hand in return, her face went porcelain white. “It’s good to see you doing well.” The last time I’d seen her, Diego’s cousin from Sicily had taken it upon himself to extract revenge for the death of Diego’s son by nearly killing her with hundreds of cuts all over her body. She’d been naked and covered in blood when I found her. My presence clearly reminded her of that horrific scene months before, but there was little to be done about it. I was marrying into this family. Alessia would have to get used to seeing me. When I shook hands with Luca, distrust and accusation swam in his black irises. I wasn’t sure whether he was more bothered by the fact that I’d seen his woman naked or the fact that a man from my family had been the one to hurt his woman. A little of column A, and a little of column B. Either way, his message was clear—I would not be earning his favor anytime soon. “Luca,” I said with a curt nod. I wasn’t about to grovel for his approval. He shook my hand without a word, the silence between us as sharp and deadly as any blade. “All right everyone, dinner’s on the table!” Carlotta called, slicing through the tension in the room. We all turned toward the dining room. My hand naturally migrated to Maria’s lower back as we walked. Her spine stiffened, but she didn’t pull away. When we took our seats, I ended up between Maria and Alessia, much to Luca’s visible irritation. We took turns passing the salad, and Carlotta attempted to ease into conversation with small talk, but the sticky awkwardness in the room refused to dissipate. I wasn’t the type of man who caved to the pressure to apologize for anything. My family had been fully owed blood for the loss of one of our own. If anything, the Genovese’s owed me a word of thanks for bringing Alessia home alive. However, as much as it pained me to concede anything, it was easier to smooth things over now than to suffer through the awkwardness for a minute longer. When a break in the conversation arrived, I turned to Alessia and extended an olive branch. “I know it doesn’t change what you went through, but Rico is no longer alive.” Knives and forks stilled. The weight of everyone’s stares danced between Alessia and I. “I heard, and I have to say I was relieved.” Luca piped in with a muttered grumble. “Too bad it was a quick ending —he deserved far worse.” “I can’t imagine being run down by a truck was pleasant.” I probably should have allowed him his anger without comment, but I couldn’t help myself. Before Luca could retort, Maria cut in nonchalantly. “That’s what you get for being too drunk to see straight.” “An interesting assumption.” I lifted my wine glass casually. “I don’t believe his blood alcohol levels were released to the public.” She shrugged a shoulder, finishing a bite of salad lackadaisically. “I thought surely I’d read that somewhere.” Her eyes lifted to mine, a sensual lashing of defiance. So, the kitten had claws. My little lynx had been the one to orchestrate Rico’s death. Even more intriguing, we never would have known if she hadn’t blatantly admitted it. Her confession had been no accident. She wanted me to know. Maria had, yet again, managed to surprise me. I sipped from my wine, then smiled slow and wolf-like. “A lucky guess, then.” She lifted a perfectly sculpted brow as she plucked a cherry tomato from her plate and sucked it between her lips, all without removing her gaze from mine. Challenge. Provocation. The thought of her punishment had my d**k straining against my zipper. She’d killed a made man. Had there been others? Rico’s family would demand revenge if they had any idea, but they wouldn’t have the opportunity. I wasn’t about to tell them—that would just stir up trouble. This way, her suffering would be all mine.