I pull back just enough from him to see his cocky ass grin.
“I knew it. Arrogant.”
He laughs harder. “Not arrogant, sweetheart, confident.”
Kaz slips his hand into mine as we walk through the Palazzo. Three of his men walk behind us, with another two in front.
Heads turn as we walk past the outside cafes of Palermo. With their long black overcoats, short-cropped hair, and tattoos on their exposed necks and hands, they reek of organized crime. But none of them could be mistaken for Italian.
Viktor holds the door to the restaurant open, and Kaz moves his hand to the small of my back to guide me inside. I was a little girl the last time I visited my family’s estates here, but if I’ve ever been to this restaurant I don’t remember.
But the beauty of this place—the curved archways, candlelight flickering over centuries-old stone, and the mouth-watering aroma of deliciously prepared Italian dishes will be forever etched into my memory.
The restaurant is empty as we continue our way through to a room near the back. There are two tables with men, all dressed in similar black tailored suits. I recognize some of the faces— men that hovered when Uncle Vicente would visit. I also recognize the older man sitting at the head of the long table.
Marco Sartucci. My oldest brother was named after him, out of respect for the position he holds. While there are many families wrapped up in the mafia world, Marco Santucci sits at the head of them all. He answers to none, while they all answer to him.
As we approach the table, my uncle’s men fan out, ready to intervene if this is some sort of attack.
Mr. Santucci gets up from his chair, staring at Kaz as we approach. Kaz gently eases me behind him as he greets my uncle.
“Senor Volkov.” Marco extends his hand. Dark brown spots litter the paper-thin skin.
“Mr. DeAngelo.” Kaz shakes his hand. “You remember your niece, I’m sure.”
Kaz steps to the right, bringing me forward.
“Sienna, yes.” He inclines his head with a small smile. “You were such a small child the last time I saw you. Your father brought you to meet your grandfather. A good man, your grandfather. A good soldier.”
I’m out of my element here. I’m sure there’s an appropriate response, one that shows my loyalty, and trust is in my husband, but also exhibits respect for this powerful man. But I’m at a loss.
“I’m sorry that I don’t remember that meeting. As you said, I was very young.”
He waves at the empty chairs and tells us to sit. Kaz pulls out my chair for me, waiting until I’m comfortably seated before he sits beside me.
Using his mind reading skills, he places a hand on my knee, squeezing it. A gesture that reminds me I’m safe. I’m here with him, and he won’t let anyone do anything to hurt me.
But it’s not just me, I’m worried about. Even with Kaz’s men with us, this place reeks of danger. It hides in every shadow, every dark corner of the restaurant, and it rolls out into the streets.
This is Marco’s town.
“First, I will apologize to you, Sienna.” Marco leans back in his chair while placing his hand onto the table. From his pinky finger sparkles a diamond on the signet. The diamond rests in the middle of the monogramed family initials.
I settle my hands in my lap and bring my gaze up from the symbol of his power to his gaze.
“If I had known what your Uncle Vicente was up to, I would have sent someone else to oversee your brothers. I would have gone myself, had I known what he planned.” His voice is raspy from years of smoking and drinking. Stretched thin from the amount of lies he’s told.
“He fooled us both, then.” I’m being generous with my own lie.
“I assure you none of your family here knew of his treachery. Stealing from his own niece? Threatening the life of a child? No. It’s not what we do.”
Kaz’s grip grows tighter on my knee. He promised to keep his temper under control, no matter how many lies my family uttered tonight. But it’s getting harder the longer my uncle rambles.
“Mr. Santucci.” I take advantage of a pause while he takes a breath. “You can understand then, why I am eager to resolveany disputes between my family here and my new family in the States. I would prefer no more blood be shed.”
“I have no ill will toward your husband.” His gaze cuts to Kaz. “So long as his family keeps to their business and leaves ours to us.”
“That depends on your businesses. We will not allow the torture of women in our city,” Kaz interjects.
