Catarina
“Shit.” I press the call button on my phone, knowing it’s futile because we’re still in the air and I have no signal. Nothing happens, and I toss my cell back in my bag, agitated and concerned.
“What’s wrong?” Massimo asks, leaning over my shoulder as we emerge from the bedroom. After Fiero took a nap, we commandeered the bedroom, making love before sleeping for a couple hours. Now we are making our descent into New York, and reality is calling.
“I have some missed calls from Renzo and Dario seconds before we took off. They didn’t leave messages, so I don’t know what it’s about.”
“We’ll be landing soon.” He steers me toward our seats. “It’ll have to wait until then.”
Renzo is waiting for us when we emerge from the jet twenty minutes later. His lips are pulled in a tight line, and his eyes are hard as he watches Massimo and me walk toward him holding hands. Fiero trails behind us, keeping a sharp eye on our surroundings.
“We have a situation,” Renzo says in place of a normal greeting when we reach him. “I need to talk to you in private.”
“Whatever you have to say can be said in front of my husband.” I will be spilling the beans on everything when we get back to our house, and I’m done concealing things from Massimo. Cutting him and Fiero out now would be a piss-poor way of repaying their faith in me. They have put a lot on the line to confide their secrets. I owe them the same in return.
Renzo’s eyes probe mine and his brow puckers. “This doesn’t concern either of them.” His jaw tightens while he blatantly ignores looking at Massimo or Fiero, and I’m officially done with his disrespect.
Whipping my knife out, I dart forward and press it under his chin. “Don’t test me, Renzo. I’m the boss. When I give you an order, you comply.”
“You don’t want them hearing this.” His eyes silently plead, and my resolve wavers. It’s so hard to stay angry with Renzo when I look in his eyes and see the comfort and security I craved as a shattered teen.
But we are not those people anymore, and the power shifted between us a long time ago.
“They know about the Russians, and they will know everything else very soon,” I say, withdrawing the knife and stepping back to create some space between us.
“No, Ree-ree. No!” He grips my arms. “You cannot trust him. He’s a fucking Greco, for God’s sake!”
“What the hell does that mean?” Massimo steps up behind me, placing a hand on my lower back, letting me know he’s here for me.
“I will explain later,” I say, angling my head to look up at him. Massimo nods, immediately trusting me, and my heart swells behind my rib cage. Tipping my chin down, I level my underboss with a warning look. “Tell me now, Renzo. Disobey me again and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
“You’re making a mistake. You’re—”
“You heard Donna Greco,” Massimo says in a lethal tone, cutting Renzo off mid-sentence. “Explain what is so urgent, or I’ll gladly punish you for disrespecting my wife and your boss.”
Renzo clenches his fists and grinds his teeth before slowly exhaling. I see the fight go when it inevitably leaves his face. “The Russians have attacked Vegas. It’s a mass slaughter, but Saverio got out, and he’s gunning for you. The Russians purposely let it slip that you are working with the Bratva, and he’s out for blood. He’s blaming you for losing his territory again, and my intel says he’s already on his way here.”
“Of course, he is.” I bark out a bitter laugh. “I may have played a part, but he’s far from blameless. That lazy good-for-nothing bastard sat on his fat ass for years while I lined his pockets, took care of his daughter, and kept his streets orderly. How dare he come for me.” Anger blazes from my eyes as I straighten up and pull out my cell. “Anton has officially declared war and shown his hand now.”
“He wants you dead,” Renzo says, articulating what we all now know.
“He wants both of us dead,” Massimo adds. Shock renders on Renzo’s face for a split second before it’s gone.
“This ends tonight.” I level Renzo with a pointed look. “I have waited long enough to have my revenge. Call Dario and tell him to send out the alert to all our men. We move on Saverio Salerno tonight.”
Renzo casts a wary look behind me. “Are you sure you want to do this now?”
“Yes.” I trail the tip of my knife over my fingers, already itching to spill Saverio’s blood.
“What about Anais?” he asks.
“Anais will never know it was me. We can pin it on the Russians. Give The Commission another reason to hate them. Get our men ready, and meet me at Massimo’s house in an hour so we can put an attack plan in place.”
“Ourhouse,” Massimo corrects, stepping around me to eyeball Renzo. “Do we know which plane he’s on?”
Renzo tosses him a curt nod before refocusing on me. “I have the intel we need to map out a strategy. He took to the air an hour ago, so we have four hours max to formulate a plan and execute it before he lands in the city.”
“Bring everything with you to Long Island,” I say, reaching back to take Massimo’s hand. “Go now,” I urge Renzo. “And keep me updated if necessary.”
