“If it wasn’t for Donna Conti, your bank balance would not be as healthy and the chaos on the streets of Vegas would see you lose your territory again,” Dario says, reminding him of how I have restructured his business, cleaned up his streets, and lined his pockets.
“If it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t have anything.” He jabs his finger in Dario’s direction as one of his men brings him a glass of scotch. He doesn’t offer me or my men anything, such is the disdain he holds me in.
He knows I have him by the balls, and he hates it.
“I made you,” he hisses, swinging his gaze in my direction. “Anything you have now, you have because of me. You’d do well to remember that.”
The last shred of patience evaporates, and I hop up and lunge at him, lifting his chin with the side of my knife. His men withdraw their weapons the same time my crew does, and they point guns at one another over our heads as both factions face off. “You sold me to that pig Conti at eighteen to get rid of me. You weren’t doing me any favors. You knew what he was like, and you still gave me to him. Anything I have now is because ofme. You’d do well to remember that.”
“You think I’d any other choice?” he roars, and I press the edge of my knife into his throat, nicking his skin. “You were unpure, broken, and bitter. Damaged goods. No one else wanted you. I took you and your whore mother in when you had nowhere to go! I paid for all your cosmetic surgeries. I gave you back your looks. I let my man train you and later let you have him for your underboss. I secured a marriage contract for you when no one wanted you. The deal I made gave you a purpose and power, and you have the nerve to give me shit?”
I dig the knife in deeper as his men glance anxiously from side to side. “I should slit your throat right now, just like you slit my mother’s throat when you grew tired of her.”
“Yet I still kept you. You give me no credit.”
“I was nothing more than a glorified babysitter. You kept me for Anais. You didn’t do it for me. You would just as soon have slit my throat too, only Anais was attached to me. She loved me the same way I loved her. I raised my sister for four years when you were out murdering and fucking and double-crossing your allies as well as your enemies. Don’t pretend it was anything else.”
I remove the knife and straighten up before I murder the bastard ahead of his time. “Back down.” I stare at Saverio’s men before nodding at Dario, Renzo, Ezio, and Ricardo. All the men lower their weapons and put them away. I snatch the undrunk scotch from Saverio’s hand, knocking it back in one go. Then I throw the glass at the wall, watching it shatter with aggravated satisfaction. “Understand one thing, Saverio.”
His nostrils flare at the slight.
“You live because I allow it. I have a direct hotline to Don Mazzone now. If I show him that video, he will know you planned to betray him and that you haven’t forgiven him for taking Alessandro from you. He won’t hesitate to kill you.”
“What do you want?” he spits, removing a soiled handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at the trickle of blood leaking from his neck.
“I am here to remind you to keep quiet about Carlo Greco and to reaffirm my story if Leo, Ben, Alesso, or anyone else from New York asks about me.” I tell him the story we have concocted about my background and how I came to be Paulo’s wife.
“I won’t say anything.” He has no choice but to agree.
“I know you won’t. While I don’t understand it, Anais loves you. If you die, she will be devastated. Especially if it’s at my hand. Remember that if you are tempted to betray me.” The only thing in this world Saverio cares about—more than himself, whores, and drugs—is my half-sister. They have a fucked-up relationship I will never understand.
“All bets are off if you renege on your word,” he reminds me, awkwardly climbing to his feet. “I want a seat on The Commission when you have control.”
“And you shall have it,” I lie. “As long as you stick to the plan.”
He nods, gesturing to his man for another drink.
My men move around me as we prepare to leave. “Keep your nose clean and your head down, Saverio,” I remind him, knowing he will do the exact opposite.
* * *
“I like this one,” Nicolina says, fingering a wedding dress with a strapless neckline and a heavy layered skirt as I lift my head from the printed document in my hand.
“Don’t you know me at all?” I already gave a list of my likes to the owner of the high-end bridal boutique, and she is currently setting up a few for me to try on in one of the dressing rooms. Nicolina made the booking, insisting on an appointment after hours so we have complete privacy. “I want something simple but elegant. Something breathtaking without looking like I have tried too hard.”
“I know you like clean, sophisticated lines, but this is your wedding day.” A dreamy look crosses her face. “If there is one day to throw the rule book out, it’s the day you get married.”
“I have been married before, and I didn’t get to choose my gown. That bitch Francesca did, and she put me in this godawful high-necked heavy meringue creation that scratched my skin and almost smothered me in the heat. This time, I’m doing it my way.”
“Fair enough.” Her eyes skim over the rails of beautiful gowns. “Oh, look at this one. You would totally kill it in black.”
My gaze drifts over the exquisite figure-hugging black lace and organza gown with feathers. “That would make a statement for sure, and I’m almost tempted, but I want to draw attention to this marriage for all the right reasons.”
“Massimo is going to look so hot in a suit.”
I shake my head as I scroll through the terms of the legal agreement while we wait for the bridal owner to call me in. “You have an unhealthy obsession with him. I think I need to have a word with your husband.”
“Come on, girl. Admit it. He’s sexy as fuck and a drastic improvement over your last husband.”
