“I’d be comfortable with it. But I’m open to discussion. I figure, as long as the four of us back the same person, we’re less likely to fall apart after Marco’s death.”
There are a few other captains besides the men in this room. But either they’re too loyal to Marco or I simply don’t trust them.
Gio whistles. “That’s a breath of fresh air.”
“What? Compared to the ramblings of a madman? Of course,” Sal says. “None of you are old enough to remember what it was like working beneath Marco’s father, but it was like night and day. He was cruel when he needed to be, as any good boss should be, but he was predictable—fair. Something that Marco has never had the capacity for. However, we’ve never seen this level of rapid expansion before with Marco, so he’s doing something right. Alessandro, it could be difficult following in his footsteps for this reason.”
“I thought of that too,” I say. “But I think I can manage. Sal, you have more experience than I do, and I think you have the skills to be a good leader. Do you have an interest in the position?”
He snorts. “Absolutely not. Look at this conversation we’re having right now; we’re plotting against Marco. I certainly don’t want to find myself in that position, not when I have fifteen, no…” he pauses, “seventeen grandchildren I could spend time with, instead.”
I figured his response would be something of that nature, but it’s nice hearing him say it out loud. I don’t bother asking Gio or Dante. I know Gio likes managing the hacking, the cameras, and whatever other technology we need. And Dante? He obviously can’t lead. If his injury had occurred before getting promoted to captain, he would never have made it up the ranks.
“I know you trust the three of us the most,” Sal says. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if Elio wants this position as badly as you do. I’d still prefer you, but I think he’d be capable of being boss. And all of his soldiers and Vincenzo’s soldiers are loyal to him.”
I wince at the thought of Vincenzo’s best friend taking over the family. “I can speak to him next.”
“Good idea,” Sal says. “Now, let’s hurry out of here before Marco has time to get paranoid about what we’re talking about. And Alessandro? Don’t do anything too rash. Patience with this type of thing is key.”
“Of course.” I nod.
They file out of my office. This conversation went much better than I expected, and a sense of ease washes over me.
Maybe I really can lead this place one day. How different would my life look? Being in charge. Being able to make all the decisions. And best of all, Marco would be gone.
Before I can ponder that further, Sal opens the door, holding Sofia by the arm. How she got out is beyond me, but clearly she’s disguised herself on purpose: huge sunglasses, a floppy hat, a thick coat. She probably would have been less conspicuous if she had just looked like herself.
It’s as if she knew today is the worst day to distract me. I wish I could simply be angry, but there’s something about her testing me like this that makes blood rush to my cock, and I want to get Sal out of here as quickly as possible.
“Thank you, Sal. Did Marco see her?”
“Not that I’m aware of. She was walking right past your office after our meeting.” He pushes her gently forward. “I’ll leave you to it. Good luck.”
Chapter 15
Sofia
Ijumpedover.
The railing was wide enough for me to take a running start before launching myself over to Elena’s side. I didn’t think I was capable of it, but the rage I was feeling gave me the kick in the ass I needed to clear the distance. The thought of falling to my death didn’t cross my mind once—I was fueled by only three words:rule number one.
As if last night hadn’t even happened. He didn’t want to check in and see how I was doing or even try to act remotely polite.
So, I felt pretty fucking done with this whole ordeal.
My feet hurt when I landed on Elena’s balcony, but luckily, her sliding door was unlocked and she was still sleeping. This allowed me to quietly put on some of Elena’s clothes as a disguise and walk out without the guards noticing.
But someone caught me outside of what appears to be Alessandro’s office, and now he’s standing over me, seething with rage.
“How. The hell. Did you get out?”
“I walked.”
I’m not technically lying, just omitting which door I walked out of.
He prowls forward, pinning me against the wall. His face flushes with anger as he rips off the hat, the sunglasses, and then finally the coat. He cages me against the wall with one arm while analyzing the tag on the coat. If he were acting like this early in our marriage, I’d probably be shaking in fear. But as time has gone on, I honestly don’t think he’ll harm me.
“How did you get this?”
