“We need to talk,” he says quietly, looking toward the front door. “But not now. Now, you need to act like you’re going along with everything. If Mario suspects even a small bit that you aren’t being compliant, your father and Carla will pay, and so will Addison.”
A rush of anger breaks through my apathy. “He’d really hurt a little girl?”
“He’s done it before and won’t hesitate to do it again. He has no morals. He’s a psychopath. Addi doesn’t deserve to pay for our sins.”
“How did you even end up in this situation?” I ask, wanting to know everything. I think I deserve to really.
“I promise we will tell you everything when I can from the beginning, but right now, I need you to put on a good show. And Tori, just assume everything you are doing or saying is being monitored. He’s going to push for that warehouse, especially since we can’t get into the safe. Maybe think of a way to distract him,” Xavier suggests. “Keep his attention elsewhere so we can figure out where he’s keeping Addi and your family. If we can free them, he has nothing to hold over us.”
“Why don’t I just put a bullet in his brain right now?” I ask, but before I can answer, one of the goons steps through the front door.
“Mr. Maricuso said to get your ass inside.” We can hear yelling through the door, and he winces.
Xavier and I hurry to do as directed, but he mutters a reply. “He has a fail-safe. If anything ever happens to him, they will be killed.”
“He’s pissed,” the goon mutters as we pass him, and Xavier nods. Hmm, maybe not everyone on Mario’s side is loyal to him. Good to know. Perhaps offering a place in the Russos after all this will be enough to get them to defect. “He’s in the big ass dining room. I wouldn’t detour.”
It’s late, and the sun is setting, so the house will go into automatic lockdown shortly. I wonder if Colton has hacked that system yet and if they told Mario what happens.
We approach the doors to the dining room, and Xavier holds out his hand. I look down at it and frown. “Come on, Tori. Let’s make this look good.” He winks, though I see concern in his eyes when we hear Mario shout again.
I sigh but put my hand in his as he pushes the door open. Mario’s rage cuts off as everyone turns to look at us.
“You,” he hisses. “Where is the fucking staff?” he demands as I glance around the table. Apparently everyone is joining us for our wedding meal. Penelope sits at the opposite end of Mario, who is seated in my father’s traditional place. She looks down at our joined hands and smirks before clearing her expression and looking bored. She picks up her glass of red wine and takes a sip.
I turn my attention to the others at the table. Stacey and Gregor look smug, and Tristan appears strained. Stacey is sitting next to him with one hand is under the table, doing who knows what, but if his face is anything to go by, it is unwanted.
Mario slams his hands on the table. Vienna flinches and cowers into Colton’s side as my gaze returns to him. His face is red, and if he could have steam coming out of his ears, I’m sure he would. I give him a confused look.
“What do you mean where is the staff? We don’t have any except Ben and Suzy and a couple of girls who come in during the week to dust. All the staff here today were contractors and left after the funeral.”
He clenches his teeth and sneers, “Where are the cook and the butler? They disappeared. We have no meal for dinner.” He waves his hand at the empty table, and I smother a scoff of amusement. Ah, he thought he was going to be catered to.
I shrug my shoulders. “I couldn’t tell you. I’ve been with you or one of the others since you kicked them out of the office. Shouldn’t you be keeping a better eye on your staff?” I ask breezily, walking over to the table, picking up a bottle of wine, and pouring myself a glass. I go to take a sip but pause as the tension in the room ratchets up. I stop, and with a smile, I pass the glass to Xavier before pouring myself another one. I lift it and salute him. “To us. May our marriage be long and fruitful.” I toast before taking a sip. He smirks behind his glass and toasts me back before taking his own drink.
“This isn’t good enough. What are we going to eat now?” Stacey whines, glaring at me.
“I don’t care. Liquid dinner sounds pretty good to me.” I pull out a chair and slide into it, slouching indolently before taking another sip. “None of that is my responsibility anymore, and damn if it doesn’t feel good. Ask the boss.” I nod to Mario, and everyone focuses on him.
The dude is so red, he looks like he could be stroking out. His mouth opens and shuts a couple of times, but nothing comes out of it.
“Mario?” Gregor sounds concerned and stands up.
Mario roars, grabs the white tablecloth, and flings it up, tossing everything on the table around in a fit of anger. Everyone moves quickly, getting out of the way of the destruction. I’m fast enough to save the bottle of wine in front of me, but Stacey isn’t so lucky. The bottle in front of her lurches to the side before tumbling over, spilling its red contents all over the skimpy white dress she wears. She screams and lunges to her feet, looking like she’s now the victim of a serial killer. A wave of satisfaction rolls through me. She no longer has her hands on Tristan, and it gives me a preview of what she’s going to look like when I finally get my revenge. Doesn’t it look as pretty as a picture? That’s definitely going in my fantasy bank for later.
A look of panic crosses Penelope’s face, and she stands, holding her hands up in a placating way. “Whoa. It’s okay. I’ll deal with the staffing problem tomorrow. Tonight we can just head out for a meal. Stefano has a private room at Casa De Russo that is always available. We can have some delicious Italian food, and you can relax. They make their pasta and gnocchi fresh. It’s delicious,” she suggests, looking to Gregor for support, and he’s quick to give it.
“That sounds like a fantastic idea. I haven’t had decent gnocchi since Nonna passed. I can’t wait to try it. Go get changed.” He waves Stacey off, and she huffs but does as he says, red wine dripping on the floor behind her.
Mario is glaring at me, but his breathing seems to have calmed, and his face isn’t quite so red. “You will clean up this mess, since there is no one else to do it. If I come home and it’s still here, your father will pay,” he threatens through gritted teeth.
“I thought it was our wedding dinner. Why can’t we come?” I gesture to the rest of us.
He scoffs. “You think I’d trust you out in public? No, it will be a long time before I let you out again.”
I freeze as I realize what he is saying, and a smile stretches across his lips. “Oh, Tori. I am not a stupid man. I’m not going to let you out to cause havoc. I know you’re behind the lack of staff. Even your two previous bodyguards were missing when I sent men to their house to deal with them.”
I shudder internally. Sam and Dean can look after themselves, but I knew Mario would target them, and I’m glad they knew to scatter to the wind. I just hope the sworn-in employees do the same. The rest of them who have nothing to do with the Russo family should be fine. If Mario is this mad now, then I can’t imagine he’s going to be any happier when he discovers the rest of the family missing—or maybe he will just slot his own people into key roles and keep it business as usual. Less work for him.
