“We still good, Vitali?” he asks, and Vitali gives a nod, which I interpret to mean:no bugs and no recording devices detected during my last sweep. Which, if I know Vitali, was approximately nine minutes ago.
“Alright,” Luca says. “Then if anyone here knows where this stupid fuck Gatti is, now’s the time to tell me.”
The room is so quiet I swear I can hear Carlo’s heartbeat start to race across the room. I glance at him and give him the smallest frown to make sure he stays quiet.
Once I get Luca alone, I’ll explain to him what went down. Throw myself on his mercy and all that shit. He’s a fair man and he’ll understand. But there’s no way I’m going to speak up here in front of all these idiots. The situation is too delicate.
The seconds tick by until Luca speaks again. “I’m going to make an assumption that no one here knows anything, because if they did, they would’ve spoken up by now. Because if I find out later on that someone hereknowssomething, and they didn’tsaysomething…” His eyes land on Carlo and I prepare myself to make a wild distraction, until I realize Luca’s also looking at Bianchi Senior behind him. He’s choosing his words carefully, keeping his meaning vague. “I will be very disappointed,” Luca finishes finally.
A little ripple of fear is spreading through the room, but I keep my knees locked, shoulders back, head high. Sure, Luca might threaten everyone from time to time, but he’ll see sense when I can get him alone and explain. I know he will. Carlo, when I look at him again, is managing to keep it together enough that he doesn’t look any more guilty than anyone else in the room right now.
And still, no one says a word.
“Okay,” Luca says, and shrugs. He gives Vitali a nod, and Vitali steps forward.
“Listen up,” he says loudly. “Everyone here is out in twenty minutes. I don’t care if you made a new buddy overnight, you ain’t seeing him again until we’re back in New York. Maybe there’s some shit going down, but so far we are not involved. Let’s keep it that way.”
He waves a dismissive hand and my Morelli brothers begin to murmur again among themselves, some of them disappearing to pack their stuff, some of them milling around making suggestions about where the groom might have run off to.
I approach Luca. “Boss, if you have a minute, I need a word in private.”
“Can it wait until we’re back in the City? Vitali’s right, we need to get out of here, and I don’t want Finch away from me a second longer than he has to be.”
It hits me then that I’ve played this all wrong. Luca clearly expects that I, too, would have stood up to explain the situation just now when he called for it. “Sure thing, Boss,” I tell him. “It’s no big deal.”
“Sure?” he asks, looking at me closer. “Sorry, Nick, I don’t mean to sideline you—you know how I get when I think Finch might be in danger. If it’s important, I’ll make time.”
“It’s not important.” I even give a reassuring smile. “Just an idea for how we might collaborate better with the other Families in future.”
“You know, I appreciated the way you handled things this morning. It was the right play—cooperative. Hey, you get lucky last night?” His eyes are actually warm now.
I puff out a laugh and look away. “A gentleman never tells.”
Luca grins. “Okay. Well, I gotta start chasing Finch. We’ll talk back in New York. Come around and see me tonight. We’ll go out to dinner, or maybe we’ll order in. I think Finch will be at Kismet so I’d appreciate the company.”
I nod. What else can I do?
On his way toward the entrance to the house, Carlo manages to grab me and pull me aside.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snap. “No one can see us together.” I scowl at him, but he just scowls back.
“Are you planning on telling Don Morelli what happened?”
“If I do, I’m not gonna mention you, so don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
He blows out a little breath and rubs a hand along the back of his neck, eyes darting around the room before they come back to me. “And what about you and me? What happens next?”
I pull my lips tight before I reply, “Nothing happens. You and me, we don’t see each other again. If I get in trouble in New York,” I say over the top of him, “you send someone else from the firm to deal with me. I don’t want to see your face again and you sure as hell don’t want to see mine. We’re done. Understand?”
I turn around and walk off before he responds. I hate thinking that I’ll never see him again, never have my hands on him again, never watch the surprised agony that crosses his face during orgasm again, but I’d rather Carlo Bianchi stayed alive. If it was dangerous sleeping with him before, now it would be suicidal. As for any feelings I might’ve had, I can just tear them out by the roots and throw them away like I have every other time I felt something for someone. No biggie.
Finito.
Chapter Thirteen
Carlo
It’s been two weeks since I last saw Nick Fontana and he’s just about all I can think about these days, whether I’m doing paperwork, arguing for bail, fending off the barbs of some overworked New York detective at the precinct, or in bed alone, my hand working myself as I think about, well.
