Vows and Vendettas

Chapter 4

Dante

By the time I arrived at the abandoned warehouse for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, both of my captains were already waiting, one shouting, waving his hands around in the air like a windmill. How he managed to make his way to where he currently is might need to be looked at. Was I drunk when I allowed Vinnie Romano to run his one crew?

Vinnie hadn't even noticed my arrival as he slammed his hands down on the table in front of the other captain. Matteo Rossi looked beyond bored with the theatrics of another grown-ass man.

“This is my territory,” Vinnie Romano slams his fist on the table for the second time, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. His dirty blonde hair falls forward slightly into his eyes. I pinch the bridge of my nose, fighting the urge to put a bullet in him right now. He’s young. Hot‑headed. And I’m starting to regret giving him his own crew. The stronzo is becoming a very loud, very irritating problem. Bastard.

As if I didn’t already have enough sh*t to deal with today.

There is a new police chief who has it in his head that he is going to come in and “clean up the city.” Idiota. Langston was my city, and if the new chief wasn't careful, he was going to learn the hard way what happens when you don't leave sh*t well enough alone here. Every day this week, he'd stationed his patrol cars outside my docks in the hopes that he would find something. It was pointless. Most of the officers knew better than to interfere in what happened at the docks. The few that didn't usually learned quickly.

The chief was doing nothing but wasting his time chasing his tail. And now I have to deal with a f*****g squabble between my captains.

"Actually," I say calmly, drawing both of their attention for the first time since I walked in. "It's my territory. I just allow you to be on it."

Vinnie looks over his shoulder at me. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled a pack of cigarettes and lit one. I take a long draw, the cherry at the end running brighter as I keep my eyes locked on Vinnie. Blowing out a cloud of smoke, I watch as a bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face the longer I make him wait. And I enjoy every second of unease that it gives him.

“Sit,” I snap at Vinnie.

When he doesn't comply right away, I hold the lit cigarette between my lips and pull my pistol out from behind my back and lay it on the table right in front of me with the barrel pointed in his direction. I take another drag and raise my brow. Wisely, Vinnie chooses to do as he had been instructed this time. The metal legs of the folding chair scrape across the bare concrete floor, loud enough to grate on my nerves.

“I’m only going to say this once,” I warned while looking between the two of my men. “We don’t f*cking fight within the family. Punto.” Period.

“But he—” Vinnie started.

The cigarette in my hand falls to the ground, forgotten. I’m across the table and standing right in front of him before he even has a chance to finish his sentence. My fist gripping a handful of his shirt while pressing the barrel of my gun beneath his jaw, digging it in painfully. Vinnie’s green eyes go wide as the situation that he has put himself in finally starts to dawn on him. He’s pushed too far, and one more word and I will reduce him to just another stain on the cracked concrete floor.

“I said we don’t fight within the family,” I growled. "Do you wish to remove yourself from this family?" I let the hard metal dig into the soft flesh under his chin, driving the message home. Choose wisely, or you’ll be in a shallow grave or at the bottom of the harbor.

Vinnie’s throat bobs while his eyes search mine for any sign that I'm bluffing. I don't bluff. Eventually, he lifted both hands at his side in surrender. “No fighting.”

To anyone else, they would see his surrender for what it was. I, on the other hand, didn't get to where I am now by taking things at face value. I released his shirt and slid my weapon back behind my back again. “Smart choice.” Turning away from him, I tugged the cuffs of my shirt straight and looked between the two captains. "We have enough heat on the family as it is and you..." I pointed at an angry-looking Vinnie. "... want to start extorting money from residents that are not in your neighborhood."

Vinnie attempts to explain himself, but I cut him off.

“Vinnie, you’ll now pay an extra fifteen percent on top of your earnings.”

“Fifteen?” He roars while stepping toward me like he’s already forgotten who the hell he’s talking to.

Wrong move, kid.

I pivot on the balls of my feet and swing. My fist connects with his jaw in a clean, practiced angle. Blood beads down his chin as his lip splits, and Vinnie falls to the ground hard, landing flat on his ass. His head is now turned to the side, eyes unfocused as he rubs the palm of his hand along his jaw as he tries to understand what just happened. I shook out my hand, the sting familiar, and stepped over him without slowing.

“At this point, you’re lucky you’re still breathing,” I say, my voice sharp. “Be grateful, fifteen is all I’m ordering for wasting my f*cking time with this nonsense.”

The room goes dead silent, and no one moves. None of the others even breathe too loudly. And nobody offers to lift a finger to help him. Slowly, Vinnie pushes himself back upright, shoving his arm across his mouth, wiping the blood from his mouth. His hand shakes. Good. Fear means that maybe he’s actually learning something. I bend at the waist, placing my hands on my knees like I am talking to a child, because at this point, I might as well be.

“Do we understand one another?”

Vinnie’s eyes flicked over to Matteo at the far end of the table one more time. Matteo doesn’t look at him — he’s staring at the floor, jaw tight, embarrassed on Vinnie’s behalf.

Vinnie swallows hard and nods. “Understood, Boss.”

“Good.”

Rising, I nod, and Cass shifts to get the bloodied captain out of my sight. I scrubbed a hand over my jaw as I turned to my other captain. Matteo Rossi has always been a loyal captain. One that has never really caused me any type of strife. Matteo lowers his head and averts his gaze while pushing a hand through his dark hair.

“Sorry about this, Boss. Romano seems to have gotten it in his head that he owns all of the Old Town.”

“I’ve heard the rumors,” I say, pulling another cigarette from the pack.

Romano had started encroaching on other captains' territories a few weeks ago. Streets that have been under Rossi control for decades were suddenly paying Romano instead. It caused one hell of an uproar and f*cking headache for me tonight.

“We’ll have someone keep an eye on him in case he gets any more hairbrained ideas.”

Rossi nods his head and starts toward the warehouse door.

I stop him with a single word. “Matteo.” He pauses. Turns and watches me with the steady patience only men who’ve survived this life for decades possess. “You know what’s expected, don’t you?” My tone stays flat — no threat, no heat, just fact.

Matteo isn’t some fresh captain trying to prove himself. He’s been with me long enough to know exactly how consequences work in our world. Exactly how quickly they fall. He nods once, the corner of his mouth ticking upward in a sly smile. “I do. Don’t worry, Boss. You ain’t gotta worry about having to lay me out on my ass.”

Matteo disappears through the metal door at the same time Cass returns, his phone in hand. Please don't let there be more fires that need to be put out tonight. All I want is to go home, shower, and crawl into bed…next to my wife.

My wife.

It definitely has a nice ring to it.

Actually, getting married wasn't something that I intended to do, at least not for a couple more years. I was only thirty and had plenty of time before I really had to think about marriage and raising an heir to the Lazzari name. But now that I had gone through with it, I didn't dislike the notion.

“Anything else can wait until tomorrow," I grunt as he comes to a stop beside me. "I’m done for the night.”

Cass nods and slips his phone back into his pocket, and the two of us make our way outside the warehouse. The air is muggy; the scent of salt from the bay is strong tonight as we make our way to the SUV to head home. Thirty minutes later, I am stepping off the private elevator; I spotted Rocco immediately. He stands guard right next to the door just as I instructed him to.

“All good here, Mr. Lazzari. Mrs. Lazzari has been quiet all evening,” Rocco reports when he notices me. He taps his card on the reader and pushes the door open for me.

“You can head home now that I’m back; the others should be good.”

I don’t wait for a response from him before I step inside, closing the door behind me. The scent of pizza fills the air. I don't think this penthouse has ever smelled like generic pizza before. I spotted the box sitting on the countertop, and I lifted the top as I stopped in front of it. I find a pepperoni pizza with far more cheese than should be allowed.

Of all the things that she could have ordered, she went with this?

I’ve never been one to particularly like pizza, but I grab a slice anyway and head down the darkened hall towards my room. I bite into it, and despite the fact that it's cold, it isn’t awful. It could also be that I haven't really stopped going and this is the first thing I've eaten in twelve hours or so.

Turning the handle to my room, I pushed the door open, the hinges silent. The room is dark; the only light is the soft city lights that filters in through the nearby windows. My eyes scan the room like they always do until I find a figure curled up in the center of the mattress. Moonlight spills across her face, softening the stubborn line of her mouth.

Her dark hair disappears against the black pillow until only the curve of the back of her neck is visible in the light. She looked less defiant in her sleep as she lay on her stomach, arms pulled in close to her chest as she clutched the sheet. My lips tick upward as my gaze lingers on her a moment longer.

There were worse women to have tied my name to.

I stand at the doorway while I finish the slice of pizza, then head into the bathroom to shower. Ten minutes later, I stepped out of the shower. It was just long enough to wash away the blood, but not long enough to quiet my mind. When I return to the bedroom, I notice that Blair hasn't even stirred. I drop the towel from around my waist and lift the other side of the comforter, and I slide beneath it, careful not to jostle the mattress more than necessary. She mumbles something in her sleep that I don't quite catch. After a moment, I reach across the space between us and rest my hand lightly against her waist, and pull her into my chest.

I bury my face in her hair and breathe in vanilla and honey. Christ. It doesn't take long before I feel sleep starting to pull at me at the same time my wife shifts in her sleep. Rolling towards me, I watch as her eyes slowly lift. A deep blue that is heavily clouded with sleep stares at me. Then it clears.

And she f*cking screams.

Blair jumps clean out of the bed, somehow managing to land on her feet without tripping over the sheets.

“What are you doing?” she yells, clutching her chest.

Propping up on my elbow, I watched her chest rise and fall in quick succession. “What does it look like? I'm getting into bed.”

“My bed,” she snaps, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at me in annoyance.

“Our bed, dear wife.”

She shakes her head vigorously and begins to pace the length of carpet near the window. “No. No,” she mumbles under her breath. No. Absolutely not. You're not sleeping in here."

Seriously? Does she really think that I am not going to sleep in my own bed? Leaning forward until I am sitting up all the way, I level the startled woman with a single look that makes her pacing stumble.

“This is my house. This is my bed. And you are my wife,” I growl.

Blair watches me, still deciding what she is going to do.

“I’ve been up for over twenty-one hours. I’m going to sleep.”

I lay back down and tuck my hand behind my head and close my eyes so she doesn't feel like I am just watching and waiting for her to make a decision. Even though I am. I can feel her eyes linger on me for half a heartbeat before she jerks them away. A minute later, the bed dips as she gets back under the covers. She turns toward the windows, keeping as much distance between us as the mattress allows.

"Testarda," I grumble under my breath. Stubborn.

I reach across the mattress, hook an arm around her waist, and pull her back against my chest. Her body goes rigid beneath my arm.

"Stop fighting, and go back to sleep."