“Why the hell would he do that? Doesn’t he want to kill all Lucianis?” Giulio might not have their last name, but he’s as much a Luciani as Bianca or Dante.
Bianca purses her lips but nods. “I’m sure Giulio thinks Emilio is just like the rest of the Cesari Family—murderous and insane.”
Then what the hell is he doing meeting the guy?The idea thatGiulio is out there, meeting with a man who might want him dead, has my mind drawing up all sorts of bloody conclusions, and I don’t like any of them. Even if Emilio Cesari never hurt me, technically I’m not family. I was forced into this marriage, after all, and the rest of the mafia world has to realize that. So, maybe Emil knew hurting me wouldn’t help him, but Giulio… yeah, killing Giulio would establish Emilio Cesari as a man to be reckoned with.
Badass time?I blink at that question and realize that Mean Daisy is standing in the center of my mind, arms crossed and a wicked grin gracing her lips.
How long have you been there?I ask her.
Her responding snort is just like mine.I’ve always been here, doofus, she says.You and I are one and the same.
And you’re going to help me? Gee. Thanks. Here I thought you stuck around as my own personal bully.
She sighs, sounding annoyed by my game of one-hundred-and-one questions.Of course I’m going to help you, you idiot. You love him, don’t you? You don’t want to see anyone hurt him.I gape at my internal psycho as if she just physically slapped me. Love him? Giulio? I mean, yeah, I like the guy, but…
Mean Daisy groans in exasperation.Are you fucking kidding me? You boinked a mafia boss. You didn’t even give the stoners in high school a chance because you refused to be another statistic of the foster system, she reminds me. She gives me a nasty look.You’re in love. Accept it.She releases her arms from their crossed position and plants them on her hips.And if anyone hurts him, we’ll kill them.She arches one perfectly shaped brow.Or do you want to let the asshole go and get himself killed?
Well, shit.I’m not willing to let him get himself killed.
Blinking, I refocus my attention on the woman in front of me. “I need your help, Bianca,” I say, grabbing on to her with my hands. Then my eyes move past her to Alonzo and Otello. “I need all of your help.”
Alonzo’s eyes widen. “Oh, fuck no,” he says. “No way in hell. He’ll kill me!”
A low growl rumbles up my throat and I unlatch my hands from Bianca’s arms to take that final step down. “AndIwill kill you if you don’t,” I tell him honestly. I’m not stupid. I know the two of them—Alonzo and Otello—are always packing some sort of weaponry, and if it’s for Giulio, I won’t hesitate to drop their asses. I grind my molars until all I taste is dry bone. An ache permeates my jawline.
Bianca is at my side in a second, and though we’ve only known each other for a day or so, I feel an affinity for her. Like being married to Giulio has made her more than a family member by circumstance but one that runs deeper than blood ever could. “So, we’re doing this then?” she asks.
I nod. “If they won’t go, then we’ll just have to go ourselves.”
Otello shifts on his feet and speaks, snatching all of our gazes with his words. “I’ll take you.”
My jaw drops but hope springs up in my chest. “You will?”
He blows out a breath. “Fuck me, but yeah, I will—Giulio would skin me alive if I let his wife and cousin go alone.”
“You’re insane,” Alonzo says.
Otello shoots the much younger man a disquieting look. “You haven’t spent any length of time around the new Cesari head,” he says. “You don’t know him, but I believe the youngman is a good soldier. I trust his intentions. My gut says if we let Signora La Rosa”—Otello nods to me in deference—“attend the meeting, then it may just show the Cesaris that we’re serious about a truce.”
“Truce?” Bianca’s tone is buoyant, as if she’s excited by the prospect. “Do you think Uncle Stefano is really meeting with him to discuss a truce?”
Otello nods, though his brows are puckered as if he’s confused by something. “I believe so. Dante suspects that there’s a mole in our midst and that Cesari intends to give Don Luciani the name as a sign of trust.”
“What if it’s a trap?” Bianca asks.
If it’s a trap, then Giulioisin danger. If he’s there with his father and brother, I have no doubt that he’ll throw himself in front of a bullet for either of them. Even if he’s not in danger, there’s no reason why I can’t be there at his side. If it isn’t a trap, then wouldn’t it also be a sign of trust to have Giulio’s wife in attendance?
I practically leap toward Otello, grabbing up his hands and holding them tight in mine despite his obvious discomfort and the way he gently tries to tug free from my hold. “Take me anyway,” I command. “After all, the Luciani Family should stick together, right?”
Otello sighs. “I already agreed, Signora,” he replies. “I will take you.” Finally managing to withdraw his hands from mine, he pats me awkwardly.
I look around for my shoes. I took them off somewhere, and I can’t remember where. Seeing me search, Bianca disappears down the hall and returns moments later with my shoes in tow.She hands them to me, and I quickly slip into them before grabbing ahold of Otello’s arm and practically dragging him out of the front doors. “Come on,” I urge. “Let’s hurry.”
Otello mumbles something in Italian that sounds so much like any other man’s grumblings that I don’t pay it all that much attention, but for a moment in the middle, he switches to English, and I hear one phrase distinctly.
“May God and Don Luciani have mercy on my soul.”
27
