And the wordsin arrivo presto,which she thought meant he’d be arriving soon.
Vitale didn’t react outwardly, but his fingers tightened around his glass, knuckles whitening. A sure tell that this wasn’t welcome news.
She turned her head slightly toward Enzo. There was no subtle way to do this. No clever signal. So, she said it aloud and hoped it mattered. “Who’s Mendoza?” she asked. “He’s arriving soon, and that seems to have upset Vitale.”
Enzo’s eyes widened just a fraction. Then he smiled.
“Raúl Mendoza,” he said calmly, almost pleasantly. “He’s a cartel fixer not known to negotiate.” His gaze slid to Vitale. “He shows up when patience is gone. When the top man wants the problem ended.”
Kathleen felt the chill ripple outward as people absorbed that.
“He’s their top enforcer,” Enzo continued. “The man who delivers consequences.” His smile sharpened. “Alessandro, it’s time to sweat.”
“What?” Rocco exploded, springing to his feet. “You told me the head of the cartel was coming. I only deal with equals. I am the top. I demand to speak to their top man, not some hired muscle.”
“Sit down and shut up,” Vitale roared.
One of his men clamped a hand on Rocco’s shoulder.
Matteo stepped onto the terrace, gun in hand.
Another gun appeared instantly. Then another. And another.
Kathleen’s breath caught. Suddenly, there were guns everywhere, raised, trained, vibrating just enough to tell her how close they all were to losing control.
One wrong move.
One wrong word.
And they were all done for.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“Rocco,” Enzo said evenly, forcing his voice to stay calm despite the adrenaline humming through his veins, “Mendoza isn’t here to make a deal. Vitale lied if he told you that. Mendoza relays messages to Ramiro Sanchez.Heis the head of the cartel.”
“I know who Sanchez is,” Rocco snarled. His lip curled as he spoke, his eyes flashing with offended pride. He cut a hard glare toward Vitale but didn’t say anything else. Not yet. He was storing it, analyzing it. Enzo could see that much.
Vitale inclined his head just slightly, the barest nod.
His security reacted instantly, lowering their weapons in controlled unison.
Rocco made a sharp, dismissive gesture with his hand, and Matteo followed suit, easing his gun down to his side, but not adjusting the safety.
Enzo let out a long breath through his nose. His shoulders loosened a fraction. That had been close. Too close. He forced himself not to show it.
He scanned the terrace again, counting. Five of Vitale’s security. Matteo. Rocco. Bianca. The distance to the balustrade. The doors. The angles.
Too many bodies.
Too many guns.
No clean exits.
Rocco must have been doing the same math, because he shifted subtly, repositioning himself closer to the door. “Let’s get this over with,” he snapped. “I have places to be.”
He motioned Matteo closer, drawing him in tight. Bianca rose as well, moving instinctively toward her brother. Her position was such that Enzo was certain she missed the flicker of disdain that crossed Rocco’s face as she did so.
Enzo grimaced. Bianca was not long for this world if Rocco had anything to say about it.
