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“It’s hard to leave without you,” I confessed.

“But he has to.” Tommy grabbed my arm. “Let’s go before they change their minds.”

I hauled Bianca into my arms once more and gave her a quick, devouring kiss. Still, after I let her go, I couldn’t help touching her. I’d be lucky to make it through the night. Her luminous eyes stared up at me with adoration. It was the mature version of the look she’d given me when she was younger. I convinced myself I didn’t know what love was, but these past two weeks, I finally assigned that word to what I’d felt for Bianca all along. It was an unspoken emotion between us. A love that had taken many forms over the years.

I loved her when she was my friend, but now, as my wife, I wasin lovewith her.

Tenderly, I ran two fingers down her cheek before nodding to her brothers, Cesar, and Dom, and pivoted away to head back into the streets of Manhattan.

The Grindhouse building had a throughway that separated Jabbin’ Java from the boxing gym. Two other businesses wereon the ground floor, both owned by the McGrath side of Bianca’s family. A private investigations firm and a law office. I also knew for a fact they had a basement, which was ground zero for De Lucci operations.

With Bianca as my wife, I wondered how to navigate the complexities that came with her family.

When I emerged from the throughway, a small crowd had formed. It wasn’t regular Hell’s Kitchen pedestrian traffic. I spotted theManhattan Tattlerreporter Romero among them. These were mafia groupies.

Fucking hell.

“Alessandro Rossi!” The wide smile on her face almost had me retreating into The Grindhouse. “Is it true you married Bianca De Lucci?”

“No comment.”

Arnie was waving his arm at me from a street corner where the Expedition was double-parked to make a quick escape. Good, reliable Arnie.

“Are you the boss now?”

I quickened my strides. When they weren’t getting answers from me, they turned to Tommy. “Were you being held captive? Was this in retaliation for the hit on the café?”

“No comment,” Tommy replied. “I’m not about to admit I got my ass kicked at the boxing gym.”

I swallowed a smile. Sticks and the other Rossi soldiers swarmed around us and kept Romero away.

Jesus Christ. The contract killer in me sweated with this attention. I worked in the shadows, but I better get on board quickly with my new position as the don of the Rossi crime family and what it meant to be married to Bianca.

Sticks opened the center row of the Expedition. I was in this role now. I wasn’t gonna ride shotgun or be the driver.

I slid into the seat.

“Raffa wants to see you,” Arnie said.

“I’m not leaving Manhattan,” I told him.

“Well, you don’t have a club either.”

Dammit, he was right. “Head to the Wisteria.” If theJohn Wickmovies had the Continental, our underworld had the Wisteria. Neutral ground for everyone including warring or unstable crime families. “I’ll make the call.”

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Sandro

“So where do we stand, nephew?”

It was just me and Raffa in a meeting room at the Wisteria. Gian and Tommy were outside. This was so Raffa and I could speak freely.

With Bianca safe with her family, I was done humoring his long-running grudge against the De Luccis. I had a feeling he was waiting for either me or Bianca to call his bluff.

“You’re going to accept that I don’t answer to you anymore,” I told him. “You have disrespected my wife for the last time. I should kill you, but I won’t. The morale of the Rossi crime family has been in the trenches since Frankie took over.”