Dante inhales. “How?”
“An ally.”
I’ll tell him. But I don’t know where Stefano Asante’s loyalty truly sits, and I’m not about to fuck him over by announcing his involvement. “It’s solid. We’ll be ready, Dante. As soon as Alessia is out, we can go in and get her.”
Dante doesn’t say anything.
We pick over the information for more than an hour, discussing and planning and mapping logistics. Marco stays on the phone, throwing in suggestions as he works his way through the Corvo ranks, briefing those loyal to Cat to be ready to move. I’ll do the same for mine, as will Dante.
Pulling in the resources we need for the fight to come.
My heart thumps.
I’m coming back for you, Corvo. And I’m not leaving without you this time.
Day 93 – Luciano
The men around us roar their approval as a spray of blood announces another hit. Jeers ring out as the underdog staggers back into the corner only for him to be shoved back into the middle of the ring.
Domenico lunges, the snapping sound of a bone breaking making even seasoned men wince as his opponent lets out a howl.
There are no rules in this place.
The old warehouse is a walking fire hazard. Money exchanges hands every other seat, grievances dealt with in dark corners or – depending on the charge – in front of the baying crowd.
Cheers ring out as the battered male lands with a thud, his head smacking against the rubber flood. Dom ignores them all. He follows the man down, pinning his neck and delivering a series of short, sharp blows into his kidneys.
Matteo’s eyes are glittering with dollar signs when I glance over at him. Not that he needs it with Joseph Corvo’s money in his grasp.
The party afterward is chaotic. Rowdy. The scent of sex hangs in the air as men find their way to a warm body for the night, skin on show everywhere.
One girl slips up to me, all wide green eyes and pouty, plump lips as she slides onto my lap.
“Not tonight, love.” I brush her cheek in an apology as I lift her off.
“Not in the mood?” Matteo is also alone. His eyes scan the crowd, assessing, before he looks at me. “They’re the best of the bunch. Came straight from Salvatore.”
I keep my face carefully disinterested. “I’m in the mood for something else. Doesn’t seem like I’m going to find it.”
He huffs at that, at the sly poke to his pride. “I’m sure we can find something to tempt you.”
“Well.” I offer him a shrug, a cocky grin. “No offense, but you’re not my type. I like my women prettier.”
Matteo roars his amusement as he raises a hand. “So I’ve heard. Maybe this one will be pretty enough for you, Morelli.”
Turning my head, I keep that lazy smile on my face as I study the woman that walks up to us. Let my eyes narrow, assessing.
The last time I saw her, she was wearing a wedding dress, smiling up at Joseph Corvo without a supposed care in the world.
And we had Cat. I swallow.
The last three months have not been kind to her.
Her clavicles stand out in stark, sharp prominence as she looks at Matteo with empty eyes, the glittering black dress hanging from her frame. He reaches for her, drags her closer with his meaty hand around her frail wrist. “You already know Amie, I believe?”
“We’ve met.” I let my eyes travel over her, under the guise of inspection. Keep that smile lingering. Twist it into something a little darker.
Irreverent.
