Business discussion is over and it’s time for breakfast. Sausage and gravy.
When we’re finished, Alberto checks his watch and says to Luca, “Neri’s expecting you in an hour, boss.”
We take our leave. In the car, I tap Valerio on the shoulder and say, “Turn right.”
“Right?” He frowns. “Is that the way to?—?”
“Yes,” I snap. “Just do it.”
He raises a hand in mock surrender. “Alright. Message received.”
He turns right. The back entrance of Notte Bianca sits halfway down the block, tucked between two dumpsters,nothing but a concrete alleyway and a metal door. The sight of it puts heat under my skin.
“Pull over,” I tell Valerio.
He doesn’t question it. He never does when my voice drops like that.
I get out of the car and head toward the alley. The kitchen door swings open just as I reach it.
And there he is: Gerard fucking Bernardi.
Bandaged nose, bruised cheek, tape along his ribs. Moving slow. Limping. But alive. Unfortunately.
He should still be in a hospital bed. The fact that he isn’t means he’s a man on a mission. He probably thought he’d take advantage of lunchtime, when I’m not usually there, to get his revenge on Savannah.
Well, he thought fucking wrong.
I step into the alley. The second he sees me, the color drains from his face.
“Fuck,” he whispers, stumbling back. “No, no, no?—”
He turns to run.
I catch him by the back of his collar and slam him into the wall so hard the metal siding rattles. He chokes, scrambling for breath, hands clawing at mine.
“Going somewhere?” I ask quietly.
“Mr. Romano—sir—please?—”
“Shut up.”
He goes dead still. Terrified.
Good.
I lean close. “You don’t work here anymore.”
He swallows, trembling. “I—I’m just clearing my things?—”
“No,” I cut in. “You’re clearing out of the city.”
He stares at me like he didn’t understand the words. I know he did. He’s just hoping I’ll take them back.
“You leave tonight,” I say. “New York is no longer your home. This is no longer your family’s restaurant. You step foot in it again, you breathe near one of the girls again, and you're fucking done.”
He shakes so hard it rattles his teeth. “I—I didn’t know she was taken!” he sputters. “I swear—if I had known?—”
“You shouldn’t have needed to know.” My voice drops, colder. “It doesn’t matter who she belongs to. You don’t corner women in alleys. And you sure as fuck don’t threaten them to get what you want.”
