“Here.” I handed Sera the phone Jonas delivered. She accepted it tentatively.
We were on our way to the Brooklyn brownstone to pick up the things she needed to stay with me indefinitely.
“I don’t need one this fancy,” she said. “Just one to use until I get a new one from Luca.”
It didn’t take much to figure out that the phone I destroyed was installed with Chicago-crime-family-level security. In Italy, it wasn’t unheard of that criminal organizations had their own phone network.
“Just use it for now. I have it programmed with Carlotta’s and Luca’s numbers.”
Her brows furrowed as she scrolled through the contacts. “Did you just put your entire family tree in here? I don’t know half these people.”
The sass. I only put Paulie, Nico, Renz, and my sister, Bianca, in addition to Trevor and the Wus.
The phone on the dashboard flashed “Dad.”
“Shit.” He called this morning but Sera had been around me. I couldn’t put this off. “Yeah.”
“You’ve been avoiding my calls, Matteo?” my dad asked. Sera gave me a funny look. Yep, I know. It was like I was talking to myself. Dad and I possessed the same baritone, probably a voice analysis software was the only one that could tell the subtle difference. “Sera is with me,” I said. “Can I call you back?”
“Hi, Mr. De Lucci,” Sera greeted my father.
I bit back a smile. Dad didn’t respond immediately.
Finally, he said, “I’m glad your mother and Bianca are elsewhere, otherwise they’d be hounding your new girlfriend, probably congratulate you too.”
“Congratulate me? For what? It’s not like I’m getting married or engaged.”
“Not the thing to say in front of your girlfriend.”
Sera burst out laughing. “We’re still new. He needs some training.”
“Whoa.” I shot her a look. “Is that the way it’s going to be, baby?”
“She’ll fit right in. Listen. Call me as soon as you can, capisce?”
“I’ll call you back in a few. Just taking Sera to her house.”
“The one in Brooklyn?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a good property. Carlotta mentioned it. She said when she gets back you’re going to put it on the market.”
“That’s the plan,” Sera said.
“Talk to Matteo,” Dad said. “He can give you pointers.”
“Thank you.”
“Later, Dad.”
Sera’s house was typical of the row houses in the area. It was a Saturday before noon, and I found parking easily on the street close to her house.
She rummaged through her purse and fished out her keys.
I held out my hand.
She raised a brow. “You think someone is waiting for us inside?”
“No, Trevor and my men already cased the area.”
“Your men?”
“The family.” I grinned. “It pays to be related to the boss.”
I opened the door and went in first. I let Sera turn off the alarm and went straight down to the hallway past the kitchen to check the back door. It was secure.
I turned around and spotted the empty boxes on the floor of what could only be contraband. I checked the markings. “Caviar and vodka.”
I raised a brow in Sera’s direction.
“You didn’t see anything,” she said. “It’s not drugs.”
“I never said they were.” In that regard, the De Luccis and Morettis were aligned.
She said, “I could just return to Chicago.”
“And do what? Hide in your mansion?”
“How is it different from hiding with you?”
I gestured to the space around us. “You could get advice about the real estate market in Manhattan.”
Her mouth twitched. “From you?”
Putting a hand over my chest as though I was wounded, I moved closer. She didn’t back away, but had to tilt her chin up to look at me. I let my salacious thoughts cut loose to the skirt she was wearing last night. It was very hard to concentrate when my mind went beneath that damned baggy shirt she was currently wearing. Trevor was shit at guessing a woman’s size.
“I’m offended,” I said. “The De Lucci name is synonymous with prime real estate.”
“Resorts, shopping complexes, and office buildings maybe,” she retorted. She probably got tired of staring up at me and stepped away. “But homes like this?”
“If you’re talking about Brooklyn homes, then I’ve learned from the best too.”
She smacked her head. “Of course. I think I remember your Irish family lives in the area.”
“They own a couple of rental properties.”
“Wow. Nice. Okay, I’ll just pack up everything and haul it over to your place.” She gestured toward the boxes. “You already saw those. I have nothing else to hide so make yourself at home.” She laughed lightly. “There’s nothing to see except for a few photographs of my great-grandparents.”
Before I could respond, she walked out of the kitchen and returned to the front of the house where the stairs were located. Her abruptness and change of subject only led me to believe she felt the electricity between us and didn’t know what to do about it. Our encounter on the couch was a repeating reel in my head, and I was cocky enough to think that she couldn’t get that out of her mind too. I wasn’t the only one affected.
I went into the living room. Time to return a few calls. The smell of musk and cleaning products invaded my nose. Furniture protectors covered the couch and armchairs. I couldn’t picture Sera living under these conditions. There was nothing interesting to see. Suddenly I wanted to see her baby pictures. I smiled briefly. She was probably a hellion.
There was a rumor that Sera was the one who changed her grandfather’s view on drugs. Chicago used to make a lot of money on that product, but that had changed in the past six years. They had diversified their business into luxury goods and shipping, but the biggest chunk of their revenues came from online gambling and real estate.
I slipped out my phone to call Dad.
“That was quick,” he said.
“Sera is packing.”
“You’re keeping her in Hell’s Kitchen?”
“Yeah.”
“Good idea.”
The tone in my father’s voice made me freeze. “You have information for me?”
“Yes. Gustavo is back in Italy. From my sources, he’s going head-to-head with the Galluzo leadership, no less than his half brother Vincenzo. Those two rarely speak to each other face to face. There’s a sitdown with the clan bosses. He’s threatening to break away from them and take his shares and the influence of the Conte Enterprise board if Santino doesn’t stop hounding Sera.”
“He’s willing to go to war with his family?”
“Gustavo has no choice. Even if he’s fond of Sera, this is more about undermining his authority. He worked so hard to get to the top. Santino may be his nephew, but Gustavo would always remain the bastard son in their eyes. If he gives in now, he’ll lose the power and respect. And money without power is—”
“Nothing,” I finished. “But is it all because Santino showed up here?”
“Does it surprise you?”
“Guess not.” They were mafia after all. It was built on grudges and vendettas. And judging by my interactions with him, Gustavo was old school.
“What Santino did was a ballsy but stupid move.”
Dad chuckled. “Yeah. His kind of mob intimidation might work in Italy, but it’s different with the American mafia. Also, Santino doesn’t take rejection well.”
“Moretti shouldn’t have promised his niece.”
“I don’t think he did. Dangled was more my understanding. Santino is one of the highest earners of their organization and it has gotten to his head. He thinks of himself as the heir apparent of the Galluzo given that Vincenzo has no sons.”
And this was why the situation was dicey.
“Yeah. The man’s got leverage with Don Vincenzo. They’d been looking forward to the olive oil windfall, especially with the Wu partnership, but Gustavo seemed to have a change of heart. This put the don in a difficult situation.”
There was a brief pause as my dad talked to someone. When he came back on the line, he said, “Ava and Bianca are on their way back to the yacht.”
I wasn’t prepared for questions from them. “I better get back to Sera. Keep me updated. Give my love to Mom and Bianca.”
“Take care, son.”
After ending the call, I went in search of my fake girlfriend. I found her hauling a suitcase out of the room. I swooped in and took it from her. She gave it up with no objection.
Somehow this put me at ease. I was all for feminism, but Dad always instilled in me the importance of treating women with respect and the finer points of chivalry: Open doors. Offer to carry the heavy stuff. Always pay for dinner.
“We should go on a date tonight,” I told her.
She leaned away as if to look at me better. “A real date?”
“Yeah. In a restaurant. In public.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Where? Formal? Casual?”
I remembered the story of my parents’ first date. “Not pizza.”
Sera laughed. “I sure hope so.”
“You don’t like pizza?”
“My family reveres pizza. We’re kind of snobs.”
“Duly noted.” We had to go single file down the narrow steps. At the bottom of the stairs, I said, “My parents’ first date was at a pizzeria.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, my mom really wanted pizza. Dad had a fancy dinner booked at Le Bernardin.”
“She turned down a Michelin-starred restaurant for pizza?”
“Diavolo is the best in town.”
“You’ll have to take me sometime.” Sera was still grinning. Daylight streamed from the sidelights of the door and the Palladian window above it, bathing her in natural light. Had her eyes always been this luminous? They were multifaceted hazel brown, caramel striated with black. Her rosy lips were generous. Her nose was thin and snubbed at the tip. Cute, sexy, angelic.
Her brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”
“The kid was right.”
“What kid?”
“The one at the charity,” I explained. “He said you looked like an angel. You do.”
“Matteo De Lucci, are you getting mesmerized by my Moretti charm?” A slow smile curved her lips, and a mischievous gleam entered her eyes. “Or did you hit your head somewhere?”
“Now you’ve gone and ruined the moment,” I sighed. “When you say Moretti, I have a picture of Luca and a cigar dangling from his mouth. So…” I checked my phone. More messages. “Dinner tonight? What are you in the mood for?”
“Surprise me, but no Italian or American.”
“I can do that. I need to go to the office for a bit.”
“It’s Saturday. Are you and Daniel in a race for workaholic of the year?”
A pang of a strange emotion rattled in my chest. “How do you know Daniel works on Saturdays?”
“Please, I know his schedule like the back of my hand.” She gave me an odd look. “What? Ivy is my best friend.”
I yanked open the front door and had her rearm the alarm.
“You’re not going to lock me up while you go to work, right?”
With things brewing in Italy, I didn’t think Santino was stupid enough to abduct Sera. Luca was going to rain down lead on his head if that happened, and although Santino had the backing of the Harlem gang and the Rossi crime family, messing with Chicago was going to take a lot of balls if not sheer insanity. Unless the Galluzo threw its unified support behind Santino, then the shift of allegiances would be catastrophic. But we weren’t there yet. Still, I wasn’t taking any chances. “I’ll take you back to The Grindhouse apartment, but Trevor can escort you to wherever you want. Outside Manhattan is off-limits though.”
Sera groaned. “I just got clear of Tony and Rocco.”
“As soon as the Galluzo reins in Santino for certain, you’ll get your freedom back.”
