I don’t know, I admit.He seems to have disappeared.
Her features morph into concern, a testament to how much she’s adapted to this life. I still remember what an adjustment it was for her to have a guard with her at all times. Now, she can’t fathom the idea of me being without one.
Take one of ours, she suggests.You need someone to see you back to the island.
That’s not necessary, I tell her.I have Ugo, and I’m sure Tony will be along any moment now.
“Natalia,” Alessio calls out to her as the baby wriggles in his arms. “I believe it’s Madalena’s feeding time.”
Go.I shoo her off with a smile.We’ll talk soon.
She returns to her family, and they head to their car, leaving me to face Angelo and the man who’s been shadowing him most of the day. I don’t recognize him, but there’s no question about his affiliation. All the elements are there from the slicked back hair, leather jacket, gold chain, and of course, the signet ring on his pinky finger.
It’s customary for men in ‘the family’ to ensure we’re all sent off safely, but it hardly feels like that’s the intention behind this standoff.
A long moment of silence passes as Angelo’s gaze moves over me. His face gives nothing away, but his cold words from earlier have left their mark on me.
“You’re free to leave,” he tells me. “Or do you prefer to stand here and stare at each other all day?”
I flinch inwardly. As much as I don’t want to admit it, his frostiness stings.
Gathering what’s left of my pride, I turn and face the car.
“Miss Moretti.” Ugo nods at me, discomfort edging his voice as he opens the back passenger door.
It isn’t until I see what’s waiting for me inside that I understand his demeanor.
Tony’s lifeless body is slumped against the opposite door, his face bloodied and his skin ashen. His limbs are already secured with cement blocks and heavy rope, which can only mean one thing.
I turn to glare at Angelo. “Seriously?”
He shrugs, and that’s the extent of his reaction. I can’t even say I’m shocked.
There’s an unwritten rule in theCosa Nostrato shield women from violence, but sometimes things don’t work out that way. I was nine years old the first time I saw my father shoot a man. He told me I’d get used to the smell of blood, and he was right. In our world, there’s always the possibility someone could be here one minute and gone the next. And while I didn’t particularly like Tony, I didn’t want to see his corpse draped across the backseat of my car either.
“What offense warranted this?” I demand.
“He was inept at his job, and I was tired of him breathing,” Angelo answers dryly. “Take note, Abella. It really is that simple.”
While I want to believe his threat is all bark, I know this man loves to bite. He was a menace to society before he went to prison, but the man who’s returned is a whole different animal. Beneath that armor of civility, something brutal lurks. One look in his eyes, and I can see he wants to burn the world. He didn’t just come back here for his throne. He came for his revenge.
“And what am I supposed to tell my father about Tony?” I ask.
“Tell him he went on a permanent vacation.” Angelo’s lip curves up at one corner.
There was a time when I swore there was nothing as beautiful as Angelo Vitale’s smile. It was a rare and private gift he shared with only the most privileged of people, and I was one of them. Now, I can’t help but feel like he’s using it to mock me.
“I…” The incomplete thought leaves my lips before I can stop it, and heat rushes over my face as Angelo stares at me with nothing less than derision.
“I would tell you to use your words.” He checks his watch, effectively dismissing me. “But as riveting as this reunion has been, I have other plans. Nicky will see you home.”
Without sparing me another glance, he walks away.
I’m still standing there like an idiot when his henchman gestures for me to get in the car. Like a true gentleman, he offers me the front seat so I don’t have to ride next to the corpse. At least I have that going for me.
Ugo drives us to the private marina, where we pass through security, and the men have a brief conversation about which vessel is most suitable for the Tony situation. Between the Morettis and the Vitales, we have an entire fleet to choose from—everything from cruisers to pontoons to water taxis and superyachts. Failing all of those options, there are also seaplanes and helicopters available.
After Nicky and Ugo come to a decision, I board the Vitale catamaran and opt for the privacy of the flybridge. Even so, it does little to blunt the sound of the heavy thud Tony’s body makes when it’s tossed onto the deck below.
