What the fuck has happened now?
Slipping from the bed, Rodrigo pulled on a black T-shirt before padding barefoot into his private office adjoining the bedroom.
The office was dominated by a large desk with multiple monitors that were currently dark. He activated the primary screen with a touch, the glow illuminating the sharp planes of his face as he called Leo back.
"What is wrong now, little brother?" he grumbled.
Leo looked tired in the blue light of his own monitor, with deep shadows under his eyes. Behind him, Dario was a blurred shape moving in the background of what looked like the garage annex. "Sorry for calling, but I didn't want to wake Giana by banging on the bedroom door. Dario and Fred are back, and they have Luca."
"Alive?" he asked.
"Alive and currently discovering some of my future husband's conversation talents in Holding Cell Three." Leo paused, his expression twisting in annoyance. "They also brought back two Falcone soldiers. Luca's meeting turned into a messy brawl."
Rodrigo's jaw clenched. "Define 'messy,'Leone."
"They are both dead." Leo's sigh of annoyance was audible. "One person took a fall from a balcony after Fred kicked him. The other bled out from a leg wound that Dario swears was self-inflicted during the initial breach."
Rodrigo pinched the bridge of his nose. Dario and Frederica were always going to be a volatile mix, but he had sent them, hoping their antagonism would keep them sharp, not get their leads killed.
"The bodies?" he asked when he knew he wouldn't start shouting.
"Stashed in the Ducato van for now. Dante's handling it, but the bodies aren't the immediate problem." Leo leaned closer to the camera. "The Sicilians are getting noisy. We intercepted encrypted chatter spiking about an hour ago. They know Luca's gone dark, and they're demanding a video conference with you and Giana as soon as possible."
Rodrigo's blood ran cold, then hot. The demand was a gauntlet thrown down. Vincenzo Falcone, the arrogant pup, was making a move.
"They want to talk? Fine. Set it up, but give me thirty minutes."
"It's barely dawn," Leo pointed out.
"I know, but if they want to meet me, they can do it on my fucking terms or not at all. I want Dario and Fred to come and debrief me, even if they're still covered in each other's blood."
Rodrigo ended the call without waiting for a reply. He turned, bracing his hands on the cool surface of the desk, head bowed. This was not how he planned to wake up.
Fucking Vincenzo.
The image of Giana sleeping safely on his couch warred with her broken body in that dog crate. The rage was a living thing, coiled deep in his gut. He would burn cities to keep her safe. Starting with Palermo, if necessary.
The soft sound of feet made him straighten. Giana stood silhouetted in the doorway, wrapped in one of his oversized dressing gowns, the dark silk swallowing her. God, he loved her wearing his clothes. Her hair was tousled, her eyes still heavy, but alert.
"Trouble?" Her voice was sleep-roughened, but steady.
Rodrigo leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms so he wouldn't reach for her.
"The Sicilians want a meeting with us in thirty minutes." He kept his tone casual, though annoyance vibrated beneath the surface. "If you don't want to sit in on it, I won't make you."
Giana's gaze sharpened, the last traces of sleep vanishing. "Vincenzo has been stirring up trouble with the other bosses?"
"Undoubtedly. Leo's setting it up here. If you don't want to sit with me, we can get your laptop patched in. You will still have a front-row seat without having to deal with thestronzosdirectly."
She moved to the large leather armchair positioned beside his desk and sat down.
"No, I want to be sitting with you, and for Vincenzo to know that his bird cage stunt hasn't bothered me the way he hoped."
"It won't be pleasant," he warned, pushing off the desk to stand before her. He reached out, unable to resist, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His thumb lingered for a fraction of a second against her temple. "He's going to make claims. Ugly ones."
"I know what he thinks he owns." Giana's eyes met his, dark and fathomless. "We need to talk about last night, but it has to wait until we deal with these assholes. We both know whatever is between us is… complicated. But this? This performance is ours to control now. Partners, remember?"
The wordpartners, spoken in that soft, determined voice, struck him harder than any blow.
