“There a reason you’re covered in blood?” Fausto Mancini asked casually when he joined me in the entry of his home.
I’d already killed one man today, and my hands were aching to squeeze the life from another. Seeing Fausto when I knew he’d been roughing up his daughter brought a murderous rage to the surface. It took everything I had to force a calm façade. “Ran into a little trouble on the way back here.”
His eyes drifted toward the stairs. “I take it my daughter was returned safely?”
“She’s unharmed but shaken up. I sent her to her room.” I slowly stepped closer with my gaze lowered to my hands before me. “Things could have gone very differently. Noemi could have been hurt, and while we aren’t technically married yet, I consider her my responsibility.” I lifted my gaze to his, leveling him with a vicious stare. “If anyone ever harmed a woman under my protection, I’d tear that fucker to pieces. I put a bullet through one of those men today, and the other will wish I had when I catch him.”
“And you’re telling me this why?” Fausto asked, his lip starting to curl.
“Just thought it would be good for you to know, as my future father-in-law. I protect what’s mine.” I hadn’t called him out in so many words, but I had no doubt my message had been received. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” I gave a curt nod and let myself out. The last of my civility expired.
It felt good to confront him. I wanted the bastard to know that I was watching him. It was the only way I felt comfortable leaving Noemi in his care. If he knew I was onto him, he’d know he couldn’t get away with any bullshit.
Just to be safe, however, I decided it would be best to reach out to the head of the family for a meeting. The Italians were all about structure and rules. As a mere capo, Fausto wouldn’t be able to make any crucial decisions about the alliance. It would be prudent to ensure I kept the Moretti boss informed of my perspective in case Fausto started spreading any lies. I didn’t want this skirmish to devolve into a war.
Two hours later, I’d dropped off my car at a repair shop and borrowed Bishop’s obnoxious yellow Mustang to meet Renzo Donati at an office by the docks. Each of the Five Families specialized in specific fields. The Moretti family was all about the blue-collar worker—steel plants, teamsters, and dockworkers.
Renzo’s father, Agostino, was the head of the organization. The Don or boss or whatever they wanted to call it. I would have liked to have spoken with him, but an audience with the boss was rare. I would have to make do with his son, the underboss.
I’d never met the man before, but my first impressions assured me he and I spoke the same language. In fact, the perceptive gleam in his eye reminded me of Keir.
Renzo was shrewd.
That was clear from the expensive cut of his designer suit to the casually assertive way he carried himself. Not pompous or flashy, just confident authority.
“This is rather unorthodox. You must know that,” Renzo said by way of greeting.
“I’m aware it would normally be my uncle reaching out as the head of our organization, but this matter was somewhat delicate. I opted for discretion over formality.”
The heavily tattooed mafioso raised his chin, denoting I’d piqued his curiosity.
“I have concerns,” I continued, “that Fausto Mancini may attempt to withdraw his daughter from our engagement.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s a possibility, yes.”
“And what makes you think that?” he asked.
“Therein lies the delicacy of the matter.”
Renzo slowly paced in front of a large window overlooking the bay. “I understand you fell victim to a rather harrowing attack today. If Fausto fears for his daughter’s safety, that would seem a reasonable concern.” His insinuation that I was a danger to Noemi didn’t bother me. It was his job to shake out the truth, and I knew the ground I stood upon was firm.
“If an adversary stirring up problems was enough to make us unfit to marry, not one of us would have a wife.” I shot him a leveling stare. “I’ll keep Noemi safe, just like I did today. I see no reason our alliance should fail because of a father’s ungrounded fears. And besides,” I continued a bit more warily, “I’ve discovered that she faces a much higher chance of coming to harm under her father’s roof than in my care.” I let my meaning drift in the air between us, my unyielding stare never leaving his.
Renzo remained perfectly motionless. “That’s quite the accusation.”
“A delicate matter, wouldn’t you say?”
He raised his chin a fraction, then turned his gaze out the window. “Your concerns have been noted.”
Renzo didn’t give me any indication of what, if anything, he might do with the information I’d passed along. Still, my intuition told me he was an honorable man. I’d seen the tiniest of tics in his right eye when I’d called Noemi’s safety into question. Maybe I was wrong, but I got the sense he wasn’t any more accepting of domestic abuse than I was.
The knot coiled tight in my gut since being attacked finally eased.
“I appreciate your time, Donati. Give my best to your father.”
He nodded, signaling I’d been dismissed. Fine by me. I’d said what I’d come to say. Now it was time to move on to the next course of business.
The second I was back in the Mustang, I called Bishop and gave him the license plate of the car that had come after us.
“See what you can dig up on the owner. I doubt it’s directly associated with the assholes who came after us, but it might be a lead. I want that motherfucker found.”
“Yes, sir. You coming by the gym today?”
I still hadn’t cleaned up my knuckles after cracking them open while fighting the Albanian. Worth every drop of blood, but I’d had enough for one day. “Maybe tomorrow.”
Once I’d had a full day to think about what had happened and how terrified Noemi had been, I’d need an outlet, no matter how busted my knuckles.
“Countin’ on it,” Bishop said before hanging up.
God, I hoped we’d find that bastard. I couldn’t lay a finger on Noemi’s father or take away the trauma she carried with her, but I could make that Albanian fucker suffer, and I’d love every minute of it.
