Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Don Caruso wants you checked for weapons.”
“Seems severe,” I mutter. “I thought I was here as a friend.”
“Don’t be cute, Nico. You know he’s got to be careful.”
“There isn’t a war on.”
“There’s always a war on. It just depends on whether we can see it or not.”
“Fair enough, Tony.” I raise my hands. “Pat me down. I’d be an idiot to bring a weapon in here.”
The old Nico might’ve growled. I am the fucking weapon. But that arrogance left me when I left the life. It was never really me, anyway, more a defense mechanism to protect me from the cruel reality of what I had to do to survive, to help my parents, to keep Lucia safe.
He pats me down, then steps back with a nod. “I was hoping you’d have a weapon.” He pats his hip, no doubt where he’s packing.
“Those days are behind me.”
“They’ll never leave you, Nico. Leave none of us.”
I walk into the restaurant. Dominic is sitting alone at a table in the corner. The restaurant is dark except for the light above his head. He always had a flair for the theatrical, and this is an obvious example of that. The man probably thinks he’s being impressive, presenting himself like some twisted angel.
He’s a big man, round-faced, the signs of indulgent living are apparent in the blood capillaries breaking across his cheeks and neck. But underneath his worn expression, it’s like there’s a young wolf in there, always ready to come out. He doesn’t stand. Instead, he takes a long sip from his glass of wine, looks up at me, and takes another sip. Finally, he says, “Sit.”
I don’t like his tone very much, but I’m going to have to put up with a lot of crap this evening. I sit and place my hands in my lap, waiting for him to take the lead.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
I offer a smirk. “As hungry as you are, Don Caruso.”
“Don’t be a kiss-ass,” he snaps.
Ah, so the charm I used to use won’t work. I was pretty good at disarming him once. But clearly, it’s not that sort of dinner. “Yes, I’m hungry,” I tell him. “How could a man come to Lupa Osteria and not be hungry?”
“Order anything you want,” he says dismissively. “It’s a gift from the Caruso Family.”
“Please, Don Caruso, allow me to give you the gift of this meal.”
“Are you trying to insult my hospitality?”
I can’t win. “No, sir.”
“What’s with all the titles, all the respect? You used to call me Dominic.”
“That was before,” I say, shrugging. “But I can drop the—”
“The what? The act? Is that what you were going to say? You’ll stop pretending? Is that it?” With each question, his face grows even redder.
“I was going to say ‘the formalities,’” I tell him.
It might not seem like it to an outside observer, but this is one of the most dangerous experiences of my life, including my time as an enforcer. One misspoken word, one moment of disrespect, and he’ll call his men in here and have me executed. Lucy won’t know what happened. Arria won’t know. Somehow, the thought of never seeing Aria again hurts more than never seeing my best friend, my so-called wife.
“Steak, bloody?” he says, somehow making it a demand.
“That sounds good to me… Dominic.”
I wait for the bait-and-switch, for him to demand that I speak to him with some respect. But it doesn’t come. He claps his hands together loudly. A terrified-looking waiter immediately opens a door hidden in the darkness and runs over to the table. “Yes, Don Caruso?”
“Bring me the special item,” he says.
“That’s a funny name for a steak.” I try to make it sound like a joke, but Dominic isn’t smiling. I know that look well—he’s about to play some twisted trick. It’s the same look he got before he arranged the fight between me and his men. Whatever this is, the bastard’s going to enjoy it.
“Hmm, funny,” Dominic says. “Do you know what’s funny to me, my old friend? I went my entire life never caring about a woman. Enzo’s mother, as you know, was a relationship of convenience—a relationship which ended when she disappeared to Europe, doing her runaway job so effectively that even I couldn’t find her. She left, and then I found another. I saw Lucia dominating the room with her eye for art, knowing exactly how to orchestrate her artists, her patrons, her world. I fell in love, Nico. I suppose it surprised you. I suppose you thought I was a monster.”
He is a monster. That’s why Lucy came to me and begged for my help.
Instead of food, the waiter brings out a large box. My gut tightens. Fuck. It’s a lie detector test. A small man with wire-framed glasses follows, looking at the floor. Another waiter appears and clears the table, while the first places the big box down. The man with the wire-framed glasses pulls up a chair.