And so the questions begin.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” I reply.
“And the bruises on your face?”
I let out a sigh. “Just sparring with the guys.”
She begins prepping all the ingredients for beef goulash and asks, “Did you speak with Enzo and Gianna?”
“Of course. They’re both fine.” I rest my elbows on the counter. “Gianna will be home soon. Try not to worry.”
“I’ll always worry,” she murmurs. “Especially about you and how reckless you are.”
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about work,” I say, which earns me a scowl from her. Getting up, I walk to her and wrap my arms around her from behind. “Sorry, Mom.”
When I let go, she turns and looks me up and down. “When did you last have a home-cooked meal?”
“The other day,” I lie as I lean back against the island, crossing my arms over my chest.
I watch as she chops mushrooms, and just like when I was a kid, I find her movements calming.
Once we’re married, Sienna will probably arrange dinners with Mom, and we’ll get to spend more time together.
Once we’re married.
The corner of my mouth lifts.
She has one month.
Chapter 9
Christiano
Hugo walks ahead with two of his best men to clear the area, and only when he nods at me do I move.
With Nico by my side, I stalk toward the pier where Constantin Dragomir is standing, sticking out like a sore thumb.
Just like me, he’s dressed in black. I easily pick his men out of the crowd of people, and knowing my team will have my back, I focus my attention on the head of the Romanian mafia.
He’s my height, with black hair and intelligent eyes.
Unlike the Irish and Albanians, I actually respect Dragomir. He’s a danger to me, which is a nice change of pace.
When I stop beside him, he keeps looking at the view of the Hudson River and the city. “The air smells like oil,” he mentions.
I don’t bother commenting as I push my hands into my pockets. My body may seem relaxed, but I’m on fucking high alert. Dragomir is one of the few men on the planet who actually stands a chance of killing me.
He lets out a sigh, then turning his head, he meets my eyes. “What are we going to do, Falco?”
I take a deep breath and shrug. “A war between us will wipe out both sides, and I’m not in the mood to attend funerals.”
He nods as he turns his attention back to the river. “I hear you’re having trouble with the Yakuza.”
“Just a minor altercation.”
“And you’re almost done wiping out the Irish.”
I shrug. “It’s been fun, but I’ve grown tired of them.”
