“Unless they are soft-hearted and loyal. Like your Eli.”
Skip straightens in his seat immediately, smile replaced by a frown.
“Don’t be thinking aboutmyEli, you double-sided, man-stealing Italian fucker.”
Foster snorts.
Maverick actually laughs.
“I assure you,” he says smoothly, “your Eli is safe from my affections. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Good,” Skip mutters. “Because I will fight you.”
“You would lose,” Bones says mildly.
“Probably,” Skip shrugs. “But I’d die trying.”
The limo slows as the estate comes fully into view.
Massive…Imposing.
A fortress dressed in old-world elegance.
“Damn,” Skip says. “Compensating for something, brother?”
“Just my massive ego,” Maverick chuckles before his expression shifts back into something colder.
“Tonight is not about mercy,” he says quietly. “Tonight is about clarity.”
The gates open.
“And clarity,” he finishes as the driver opens his door, “is rarely gentle.”
“Welcome home, brother,” Stefano greets as Maverick steps out of the limo.
We follow behind.
The estate is even more intimidating up close. Old stone. Tall windows. Quiet wealth. It feels much like his estate back home, just larger.
He left Italy, but he made sure to bring some of it with him.
“Dinner is being prepared,” Stefano continues smoothly. “It’ll be ready as soon as our guest leaves.”
“He’s already here?” Maverick asks.
“In the library,” Stefano says. “Browsing.”
Maverick exhales slowly.
“If he leaves alive,” he says calmly, “have him searched. There are several first-edition collections in that room worth more than most homes.”
“For a book?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Stefano laughs lightly.
Maverick glances back at me and nods.
“We have a first editionUlyssesby James Joyce,” he says. “Original 1922 Paris printing. One of the limited copies. In excellent condition, it can bring between four and five hundred thousand at auction.”
