Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
The door to his office was open, and he spoke to someone on the phone while looking out the window. “Tell him just to get it done. I don’t have time for this.” He didn’t sound angry, but his words carried a finality in the tone. He dropped the phone from his ear and turned toward me, not reacting to my presence, like he’d somehow heard me even when he was distracted. “The usual?” He immediately moved to the bar and grabbed two glasses.
“Sure.”
He made two old-fashioneds before he turned around and extended the glass to me.
I immediately took a drink. “Someone is learning their manners.”
Don Russo picked up on the playfulness in my tone and gave a slight smile before he sat on the couch.
I sat across from him and took another drink.
He was in a collared shirt with the top buttons popped, like he’d worn a blazer earlier but it was too hot for that. It was nearly August, so it was scorching hot and tourism was at its peak. Sometimes it felt like the congestion made the streets warmer. “I’d assumed you’d already killed Warren.”
“The information passed to me was faulty.” And I was an idiot for believing otherwise.
He gave a slow nod. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Don Mancini assumed I was the rat—while it was his son the entire time.”
Don Russo didn’t react to that revelation, as if his informants had already shared the details of what had happened at the vineyard. “At least he knew the truth right before he died.”
“I told him he would live long enough to regret his assumption.” The premonition was so haunting, I wished I hadn’t said it. Don Mancini shouldn’t have disrespected me, but he didn’t deserve to die for it. The door would have always been open for him because he was Francesca’s father. But that door was sealed shut for her brother. “And he seemed like he lived with that regret for a second before it was over.”
“How’s Francesca?”
“Broken.”
“At least you were able to save her.”
“She saved herself,” I said proudly. “Killed her captors and was about to drive off when I pulled up.”
He took a drink from his glass. “She suits you.”
“She does,” I said. “I’m going to marry her.”
He didn’t react to that declaration. Didn’t taunt me like he might have in the past if I had said something like that. “When?”
“I don’t know. Whenever I think she’ll say yes.” I’d wanted to ask her during our week together in Palermo, but with such a contentious situation with her father, it hadn’t felt like the right time. I’d intended to wait until things settled down, but now, I wasn’t sure when things would get better. Now, she was heartbroken. “But thanks to her brother, that probably won’t be for a long time.”
He set the glass down and leaned forward. “What’s your plan, Wolfe?”
“Kill Warren and Leo and take back the vineyard.”
He gave a nod as if that was exactly what he’d expected.
“You know why I’m here.”
He stared at me for a while before he gave a nod.
“I have a lot of favors I can call in…but nothing that compares to Cosa Nostra.”
“Warren’s power has grown. He has a lot of allies now. We believe his intention is to resist Icarus with his alliances.”
“Then why hasn’t he propositioned you?”
“Because we would never do business with someone who crossed you, Wolfe.”
I did my best to keep a straight face, but there was tightness in my chest I tried to ignore.
“You’re still one of us as far as we’re concerned.”
I didn’t want that to mean a damn thing to me, but it did. To have loyalty when I needed it the most.
“Warren is a formidable opponent,” he said after the silence stretched for a while. “Taking him down won’t be easy. Anyone who has not joined his alliance has been overthrown and their business absorbed.”
“Are we sure he wants to resist Icarus?” I asked. “Because it almost sounds like he wants to join him.”
“Warren doesn’t seem like the kind of man that works for someone else. He’s a conqueror. He’s like Alexander the Great.”
“Okay, let’s not get carried away.”
“Whatever his ambitions, a takedown won’t be easy,” Don Russo said. “We’re guaranteed to lose good men in the process. The more objective approach is for you to walk away and live on your own terms. When we had dinner together, it seemed like you and Francesca had decided a quiet life in Palermo was what you wanted. What changed?”
“Her brother turned into a traitor, and her father was shot in the head,” I snapped. “That’s what changed. And I’m not letting them get away with this. Warren tried to take my woman, not once, but twice. He doesn’t get to live—period.”
Don Russo stared at me.
“And the fact that he scoured Palermo looking for me tells me he thinks the job is incomplete. I don’t hide from my enemies. I don’t run from my assailants. I meet them head on—always. This only ends when one of us is dead. And it’s not going to be me.”