His gaze hardens into that of a man who’s killed before. It’s not defensive; it’s unyielding.
“Because finding Gunter alive was more important than finding out why. Because I have a family to protect and loyalty to honor. But now I have no choice but to trust you not only with the Schlossbergs’ safety but also this information about my family.”
I consider what he says before I respond. “This must be a proxy war. My guess is Salvatore Mancinelli is up to his elbows in this. He’s probably funding theCosa NostraandMala del Brentasince he’s related to both.”
The Carosis run theMala del Brentain Venice. Salvatore’s nephew, Carmine, married Salvatore’s wife’s niece, Serafina. His wife, Sylvia, was a Toretta before she married into the Mancinellis. They’re one of the mainCosa Nostrafamilies in Sicily. Her sister’s married to theMala del Brenta’sdon. It’s both sides of Salvatore’s family.
“It appears my clients have Italian investors—the Torettas and Carosis. They expect a return on their investment. My clients are the ones laundering the money and using Anne as a front. If things fall apart, then she’s one of the people left to take the blame. The money’s winding up in Venice and Palermo. I’m to go against my family and help theCosa NostraandMala del Brentaif I want them to leave Anne alone.”
I shake my head since my earlier assumption appears wrong. “Maybe the Mancinellis hands are clean in all this after all. But Salvatore’s going to be more pissed than he has been since Luca, Carmine, and Gabriele sucked Anastasia into their little scheme.”
Salvatore’s nephews Luca and Carmine, along with Carmine’s best friend Gabriele, fucked up royally when they tried to do a deal with theCosa Nostraand bratva in Chicago. Niko Kutsenko’s now wife was collateral damage. The New York Mafia’s heir and their worst sinner both wound up with Salvatore beating the snot out of them. Gabriele was no angel either. All three were banished for several months to a vineyard in Sicily for hard labor.
“Friedrich, I need to know your clients’ names.”
“Fine, Joaquin.”
My brother bolts up the stairs, taking them two at a time after Friedrich agrees to his request. It’s only a moment later before he’s running back down them with his laptop tucked under his arm. We all pull out seats at the dining room table. I push thebox away from us since none of us wants to look at it, even if the lid is closed.
Joaquin asks Friedrich questions about who’s involved from his family and any names he might know from the other three Italian syndicates. Then he works silently. There’s nothing for us to discuss until we know more. So, the only sound amongst us is Joaquin’s fingers on his keyboard. When he looks up, he meets my gaze. Then, Alejandro’s. Clearly, neither of us will like what he discovered.
“This is some fucked-up shit. It’s not Salvatore at all. It’s the O’Rourkes helping out the Torettas and Carosis, and the Kutsenkos are helping your family and the’Ndrangheta, Friedrich.”
“The who?”
He genuinely looks perplexed, so I explain.
“The Kutsenkos run the Russian bratva in New York. Back in the mid-nineties, the Camorra laundered money for the New York bratva in exchange for gun running. Looks like they resuscitated that relationship. Apparently, the Kutsenkos want to not only piss off the O’Rourkes but Salvatore as well.”
I consider what this means to the underworld’s politics in New York and their wider international implications. It’s Hisham who drums his fingers on the table as he speaks.
“Why? What’re the Irish and Russians really going to gain by getting involved in an Italian turf war?”
Joaquin crosses his arms as he leans back. “They’re fighting over Europe. One wants to expand even more into Eastern Europe, and the other wants to compensate by increasing their influence in Western Europe. Not only that, I think it truly is to piss off Salvatore, but that’s not our problem. Too bad, so sad for him. We need to deal with the Russians and the Irish first.”
Alejandro leans forward, his arms resting on the table. “What about Friedrich’s clients who passed money through Anne’s accounts. We still need to deal with them on Anne’s behalf.”
I clasp my hands as I lean forward in an almost identical position to Alejandro.
“We need to go back to the U.S. to figure this out.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Liesel
I wake from a deep sleep, and I’m disoriented for a moment. I know it’s Jorge in bed beside me, but I’m unsure where I am when I first open my eyes. Then I remember we’re at Noor and Hisham’s.
“Did you sleep okay,chiquita?”
“Yeah, actually, really well. I’m surprised I did.”
“It’s the relief from your father being back and exhaustion catching up to you with one less thing to worry about. Your body and mind needed the rest.”
I tilt my head to look up at him as he gazes down at me.
“I don’t doubt that’s most of it, but a lot of it is sleeping next to you. I’m safe here, and I know it. I can relax fully when I’m around you.”
He draws me over him to straddle his waist. I guide his cock into me and lean forward. We lie like this for a moment before I rock my hips. His hands guide me into a rhythm as he thrusts up and down, driving himself deep inside me. I sit back, my hands resting behind me. This is the deepest he’s ever felt. Our gazes lock and neither of us wants to look away.
