“My wife is needed at home,” Dominic says, his voice singing with egotistical authority. “We have family dinner every Sunday at five, and Valentina needs to start cooking.”
“I’ll take her home now,” Fiero says and then he hangs up. Silently, he passes the phone to me. “Let’s go. We wouldn’t wantDaddymissing his precious dinner.”
7
FIERO
Hurt splays across her face, mixed with shame, and I instantly want to retract my words, but the damage is already done. I shouldn’t have taken it out on Valentina. It’s not her I’m angry with. I want to kill that fucking bastard with my bare hands. I want to smash his head into something hard and watch as his brain bleeds out of his skull.
The entire drive to the Ferraro house, I’m devising creative ways to murder that prick in my mind. The journey is fraught with tension. Valentina is sullen, quiet, embarrassed. Hiding behind her mask again, and it’s making more sense now. I’m seething, my rage fueled by jealousy, which is a new emotion for me. Watching Valentina succumb to that asshole was heartbreaking. I think I’m beginning to understand her more, and though I was teasing earlier, I’m starting to realize shedoesneed rescuing.
My brow puckers as we drive through rusted old iron gates that have seen better days. Things don’t improve as we drive up a long driveway filled with potholes and bordered by neglected gardens. The house comes into view when I round the bend, and at first glance, it’s an impressive gray-stone, two-story mansion. The closer we get to the building, the less impressed I am. Thick ivy covers huge sections of the walls, helping to disguise the chips and fractures in the stonework. The window frames are crumbling with several cracked glass panels. Paint is peeling from the solid front door, and there is no water gracing the ornate water feature out front. I park on gravel, to one side of the door, watching as Dominic and a younger man step out of the house.
Valentina is stiff at my side, her nails digging into her thighs through her dress. My frown deepens as she unbuckles her belt with fumbling fingers. My hand lands on hers of its own volition, and her eyes snap to mine. She’s so beautiful even with the hauntingly vacant look in her eyes.
I pull my hand back when her door is yanked open.
“Watch it,” I bark at her husband. “This car is worth a lot of money. You break something, you pay for it.”
“Funny,” Dominic says, helping his wife out of my Aston Martin. “I was going to say the same to you.”
Is he seriously comparing my car to his wife?What a dick. I get out, my feet crunching on the unforgiving ground as I round the car.
“This is for you.” Dom thrusts a wrinkled piece of paper at me.
Fury is instantaneous as I read the messy handwritten invoice. “What is the meaning of this?” I ask in a lethally cold tone, pinning him with a sharp look.
His conceited smile irritates me to no end, as does the possessive grip he has on his wife’s arm, and I’m only finding more reasons to gut this motherfucker. “Did you think my wife’s time was free?”
Horror washes over Valentina’s face as the realization dawns.
“We have a deal,” I remind the asshole.
“That deal doesn’t begin until Friday morning.”
“Do you charge every man for spending time with your wife?” I’m growling as I look at the bill for over $156,000.
“There is a price, yes,” he replies without hesitation, and I’m frowning again.
What the hell?Is he actually pimping Valentina out?My hand is wrapped around his throat before I’ve even contemplated the move. Valentina is quiet as I shove her husband up against my car, silently trying to talk myself off a ledge because as much as I want to murder the bastard I can’t. There are rules. Rules my buddy has to uphold as president of The Commission.
“Let my father go,” the younger man says stalking toward me. “Release him now, or I’ll put a hole in your head,” the little shit adds, prodding my temple with a gun.
“Cesco, no,” Valentina says.
“Do you know who you’re threatening, boy?” I ask, keeping my hand firmly locked around his father’s neck. This must be the nineteen-year-old son Vitto mentioned. Dominic is grabbing at my wrist, but my hold is tight because he’s overweight and unfit, and I could do this all day and not break a sweat.
“I know who you are, Don Maltese, and I have respect for you, but that’s my father. You don’t get to come to our home and strangle him and expect me to do nothing. He’s myfather.I would die to protect him.” His hand doesn’t falter as he stares at me with confidence and determination.
It’s more than Dominic deserves, and this little shit has way bigger balls than his old man. Reluctantly, I release Ferraro, and his son lowers his weapon.
“My father means no disrespect, Don Maltese, it’s just the way things are done around here.”
“Well, things are going to change.” I level Dominic with a warning look as I ball up his invoice and throw the paper at his face. “Wives are to be revered.”
Dominic rubs at his neck, not containing his utter hatred for me, and I love it. Maybe if I give this guy enough rope, he’ll hang himself. He’s already in enough hot water as it is being in debt to the cartel. I think a little reminder is in order. “All it will take is one phone call to Vitto and the board, and you’re done, Ferraro. Don’t try this bullshit again.” Bile crawls up my throat watching Valentina rush to her husband’s side, snaking her arm around his back as she whispers in his ear. “You can make it up to me by inviting me to dinner,” I add, deciding to stick around. I don’t trust Dominic not to punish Valentina in some way, and I want to learn more about the family dynamic.
“I apologize for any disrespect, Don Maltese,” Cesco says, extending his arm. “I hope we can put this behind us.”
