Enzotskedagain. “But did he tell you he owes over one hundred million and counting? And that the specific cartel isn’t the only organization he owes. Alessandro here has been skimming for quite some time.”
Rocco stared at Enzo. “You lie.”
“On occasion, but not this time.” He turned to Vitale and smiled smugly. “Tell him, Alessandro. Tell him how it wasn’t a loan you took from the cartel but money you stole and invested poorly. Now they’re out for your blood.”
Vitale’s face went hard. “You need to think before you speak.”
Rocco shot to his feet, causing three bodyguards to converge on the terrace around him. “Is this true?”
Vitale waved away the bodyguards. They backed up a few feet but didn’t leave.
That sucks.Enzo was going to have to recalibrate now that there were four men on the terrace with guns ready to kill him if he stepped out of line.
Vitale’s expression was stoic. “It’s irrelevant. I have the means to pay them off. Our relationship is cordial. I told you I would make the connection between you and Melendez, and I will. It’s fine.”
“You, however,” he said to Enzo, staring at him with laser focus, “did not keep up your side of the deal. You forgotsomething in France.” His smile was cold, and Enzo’s gut tightened as more footsteps grated on the stone patio.
“Kathleen, my dear. How good of you to join us,” Vitale said.
Dominic suddenly appeared on Enzo’s right, pulling Kathleen by the arm.
Kathleen’s gaze connected with Enzo’s and never left. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The apology was there anyway, unspoken, unnecessary, and devastating.
“She doesn’t need to be here,” Enzo said, his voice lethal.
Vitale chuckled. “I beg to differ. She’s my insurance policy, and I mean to cash out.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The rapid staccato beat of Kathleen’s heart made catching her breath difficult as Dominic dragged her out onto the terrace.
Enzo.
Relief hit first, sharp and dizzying. At least he was alive. Her gaze swept over him quickly, cataloging what mattered. No blood. No visible injuries. But the look on his face, the brief, unmistakable flash of shock, told everyone on the terrace exactly what had happened.
Vitale had gained the upper hand.
Enzo recovered fast, schooling his expression back into something neutral and unreadable, but the damage was already done.
“And here you thought you had the advantage,” Vitale said, his tone rich with satisfaction. “Sorry to burst your bubble.” He smiled coldly. “Actually, I’m not sorry at all.”
Enzo’s attention snapped back to her. “Are you okay?”
Kathleen nodded, then immediately winced as her head throbbed.
“Headache?” he asked quietly, his eyes narrowing as he took her in.
“Yes,” she said. “But I’m not hurt otherwise.” She wanted him to know because he was checking her the same way she had checked him.
Vitale chuckled. “Isn’t that touching?” he drawled. “Did you know these two are lovers, Bianca?” His gaze flicked deliberately between Enzo and Kathleen. “Why, Enzo didn’t even ask about you the last time we spoke. I had to remind him you were here. Looks like you’ve been replaced.” His smile turned sharp.
Bianca’s eyes narrowed to slits as she stared at Enzo, then at Kathleen. The hatred there was sudden and visceral, a flash of something ugly enough to make the fine hairs on Kathleen’s arms rise.
Before anyone could speak, one of Vitale’s security team leaned in and murmured something in his ear.
Kathleen caught the name.
Mendoza.
