Well, that might change, since now I have that itch again to walk in and search for them.
“Do me a favor. Go inside and check the back of the house. I don’t want them to end up in a bedroom upstairs. She might create a scandal that threatens more than her good morals.”
“Sure, Boss.”
Moving his burly frame with ease, he vanishes inside the house before I look for familiar faces in the crowd.
It’s mostly locals. Socialites and men who’ve done well for themselves. Some retirees. The Gallos want to keep up appearances like everyone else.
A few moments pass, and a gust of wind sweeps my face, making me tilt my gaze up to the sky.
Stars flicker back at me, wrapped in eternal coldness, when a presence makes me shift my head and glance over my shoulder.
Cosimo’s touch is soft but urgent.
“I think you need to see this, Boss.”
I read his eyes for a second before I set myself in motion, convinced I’ll be walking into a monstrous disaster soon.
I signal to the rest of my men to stay put outside––you can never be too careful. This wouldn’t be the first time a man was lured into a room by a hot woman and then ambushed and killed.
Trust no one, my father said, and I learned that lesson well. Even without having that weakness, I still got tricked into a bad situation, from which the old Gallo conveniently ‘saved’ me.
Call me suspicious. I don’t care.
Too many coincidences happened that night to be believable.Plus, Giorgio Gallo has a reputation for playing both sides.
The house becomes increasingly quiet as we stride deep into the long corridor connecting the front and the back, with fewer and fewer staff, and more and more freedom to hear your thoughts.
My thoughts stink like gunpowder and sound like shells striking the ground.
The man walking beside me says nothing to disperse the tension, which makes me think nothing has changed.
Things are just as dire as they were when he had touched my sleeve outside.
Eventually, he pushes a door open, and we walk into a large patio with flowers adorning the handrails and a canopy of trees nearby.
A couple of stairs descend to a flat, smooth concrete platform that gives way to a pool.
Faint light flutters through the shadows as the live music in the front barely reaches us.
The sweet sound of trickling water echoes in the air, along with her crystalline laughter.
I stop, as if struck by a thunderbolt, and take her in for a few seconds.
A few men watch the show from the terrace.
They’re either guests who have a keen sense of direction and somehow found their way to this spot, or they’re lucky.
The other men are bodyguards, so basically warm bodies paid to keep their mouths shut.
I push a quick, inquisitive gaze over the guests’ faces.
They’re random guys, people who came here alone or have their significant other in the front while they’re talking about money with their friends.
Sure.
My blood simmers at the scene in front of me.
