"Blonde?" My mind instantly goes to Violetta but it can't be her. She's been locked down at my house and had no way of finding out where the wedding was taking place.
"I'm thinking Elena," Riccardo says.
"Elena?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Yeah, blonde hair, big tits, works the bar in La Stanza Rossa."
I nod, remembering now who he's talking about. "Which of my men is she fucking?"
Riccardo's jaw clenches. "I don't know, but I'll find out."
Before I can ask whether his anger is because he has some personal interest in this woman, Matteo interrupts. "Are we done with this asshole? I want to get back to my wife."
"Maybe you should clean up first," I suggest. Giulia may have grown up in a mafia family, but I doubt she'll be thrilled if her new husband comes home drenched in blood.
"There's a shower," Riccardo says. "Last door on the right."
Matteo nods. He grabs his jacket off the back of the chair and slips out of the room. Riccardo pulls a knife from his belt and holds it out to me. "You want to do the honors?"
Not afraid of getting my hands dirty, I take the knife from him. Grabbing a fistful of Marrone's hair, I tilt his head back. He groans softly, barely alive anyway, as I draw the blade across his throat.
As the last vestiges of life drain from his body, he struggles to free his hands, no doubt desperate to seal the wound. He emitsa hideous gargling noise and the room stills. I hand the weapon back to Riccardo. He wipes it clean on Marrone's shirt.
"Giorgio is taking over the bars and clubs. You'll need to fill his spot on the security team."
Riccardo nods. "Quite the step up for him."
"Yes, but he's capable."
"He is," Riccardo agrees. "You want me to keep an eye on him?"
"No, deal with Elena and whoever gave her information, and then I want you to focus on recruitment. If we're going to deepen our cooperation with the consortium, we need to increase our numbers."
"I can do that." Riccardo's jaw tightens. I know what he's going to say before he opens his mouth. "But I want you to allow me to deal with Elena in my own way."
"As long as you find out who gave her information and why she passed it on, I don't care if you fuck her." I look him straight in the eye. "But I want answers."
Riccardo tenses, then relaxes. He lays a hand on my shoulder. "And when will I need to buy a new suit?"
I frown. "A new suit?"
"For the next Volante wedding."
He chuckles when he sees my expression, which I'm sure reflects a distinct lack of amusement.
"Don't worry,il mio amico," he says. "It can't go worse than Matteo's."
I'm not convinced he's right about that. Nothing involving Violetta feels simple. I don't know her well, but I suspect she has an inner fire she’s not yet shown me.
There was certainly an air of defiance about her this morning. My wedding and the marriage that follows could be a total shit-show if I don't establish control from the start. Violetta will soon learn my rules and the consequences of breaking them.
FIVE
Violetta
An houror so passes before the key turns in the lock once more. The sound is jarring but I'm grateful someone has finally come. My stomach is rumbling and my bladder won't hold out much longer.
Expecting one of Damiano's henchmen, I'm surprised when a woman steps into the room. She's older, perhaps in her late fifties, with dark gray hair pulled into a low ponytail. The silhouette of her black dress is severe, but red cheeks and a warm smile soften her appearance. She looks like a typical grandmother, not that I would know. I never met either of mine.
