Although the O’Malleys had lent us their best tech guys to lock my newly discovered cousin out of the internal system, none of them were a match for Nico. We knew from experience that he could hack pretty much anything, and creating a time delay in our security feed would be child’s play for him.
“Maybe we should consider shutting down the casino,” Matteo suggested. “In case it becomes his next target. We can’t risk high-profile civilians getting caught in the crossfire.”
I’d lost count of the number of businesses of ours that had been annihilated over the past month. The most recent hit had been Euphoria, our nightclub, and despite the hefty insurancepayout we were set to receive, the loss of daily profits while we rebuilt would be substantial. Dario was systematic, upping the ante with each attack, but the casino . . . that would be taking it too far.
I shook my head. “He’s not stupid enough to destroy that cash cow netting eight figures a month on the off-chance he wins this war.”
Matteo wasn’t so convinced, arguing, “The last time I spoke to him in person, he was going on and on about how we needed to pivot away from underground gambling. He was practically salivating, with dollar signs in his eyes, just thinking about shifting our focus toward prostitution and drugs. The casino doesn’t matter to him, but taking out our crown jewel could sway our allies who’ve been holding back their support, waiting to see which way the wind is going to blow in this feud.”
“Or, he’s hoping that we do exactly as you suggest and clear the building, leaving how many million in the vault? Not enough to break us, but plenty to seed his new ventures.”
Enzo chimed in, “I mean, he has stolen from the casino before . . .”
“The doors stay open,” I declared. “But I want men stationed at the vault 24/7, double the number patrolling around the perimeter of the building, and more armed guards on the floor.”
My brother shot me a look that said he disagreed with my decision, but kept his mouth shut. He would never undermine my authority in front of our men.
“Anything else to report?” I asked the table.
There was a chorus of “no sirs” in response.
I gestured to the bodies of the capos who’d been relieved of duty this afternoon. “Once this is cleaned up, you can go home.” Then I spun on my heel, heading for the exit with Matteo and Enzo flanking me on either side.
“Have you forgotten we have people who can handle that?” Enzo jerked his chin over his shoulder.
“I’m hoping the reminder of what’s at stake—all of our lives—will be enough to light a fire under their asses. We’re losing ground—and men—far faster than any of us could have anticipated. If this goes on for too much longer, I fear there will be nothing left to pass on to my son.”
“Speaking of . . .” Matteo hopped into the backseat of the waiting SUV beside me. “How’s Rory holding up?”
Head dropping back against the seat as we began to roll down the city street, I breathed out, “Tired, cranky as hell, and going stir-crazy not being able to leave the house.”
“Sounds about right. She’s what, thirty-five weeks now?”
“Thirty-four,” I corrected. “But the last time Corsi came over to do a checkup, he did an ultrasound that estimated he’s already seven pounds.”
My brother let out a low whistle. “Gonna be a big boy. Have you figured out how to secure the hospital when she gives birth?”
That was something that plagued my mind daily. Dario loved to play dirty, and it would be right in his wheelhouse to use the distraction of my wife in labor to strike.
“I’ve got contingency plans in place.”
There was a pause before Matteo said, “That sounds . . . ominous.”
“It’s far from ideal,” I agreed. “But that’s when we’ll be at our most vulnerable, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my family safe.”
I was already bracing for the moment when Rory learned of my plans. She would be downright pissed, but by then it would be too late to change course. The hope that this war would come to an end before Luca’s arrival dwindled by the day.
Matteo hummed. “Well, whatever you’ve got up your sleeve, I hope it works out.”
You and me both, brother.
“I’ve got something I want to show you.”
Rory’s gaze lifted from her e-reader. “I literally just found a comfortable position, and you want me to move?”
As she inched toward her due date, my petite wife’s stomach had grown so large that it had practically overtaken her body. Every ligament in her body ached with the stretch to accommodate our son, and sleep—the only time she received some relief—had become a rare commodity. It killed me to see her in pain, but we were nearing the finish line. It wouldn’t be much longer before we held our boy in our arms, and her suffering came to an end.
“I promise it’ll be worth it.”
