Page 12
Chapter Twelve
CRUE
Y ou’re letting us down.
There it is again. The monster that dwells in the black spot of my mind, rearing its ugly head to make me feel pathetic. The more I try to fight it, the harder it becomes. I’ve had ample opportunity to plunge my blade inside Fiametta. Finish this gig and walk away like a bandit king.
What did I do instead?
Risk it all to save her from that slimy cunt, Tomas.
It should’ve been his head on my chopping block last night, and not those two low-life nobodies. I made my move as soon as I saw him enter Fiametta’s bedroom, and for the first time in my life, I felt relieved, after I returned to my apartment, to see her sleeping.
And that’s how I know I’m not thinking clearly. Feeling relief at someone else’s peace? I should’ve seen it coming, when the voice in my head was louder this morning than ever before. Especially after a kill. And although the voice's cruelty knows no bounds, I still listen. For it’s my last bastion of sanity, or rather, my perceived sense of sanity.
I don’t think like normal people, and I shouldn’t pretend to be one. There’s no life for me and Fiametta, because she has to die. Playing make-believe with her is going to cause more harm than good, and last night was a prime example of that.
Why should it bother me if Tomas has his way with her?
Nah, that’s the wrong question.
I can’t answer my inner voice as openly as I did the first time it returned. I’m sitting in Matteo Baronne’s office, waiting for a meeting I have no interest in, and I can’t have him hear me talking to myself.
Why haven’t you done it already? You’re dead-set on sleeping with her, so get it over with and finish the job .
I can’t. Well, I can, but I don’t want to. Fiametta isn’t like the other woman I’ve ever been interested in. I don’t want to walk all over her like a doormat and throw her aside when I’m finished. I want to take it slow. Have my fun. Watch her explode.
Her piece of shit dad killed your mom, Sunshine. don’t you want to make him hurt?
More than anything, but why should that be at her expense?
“Crue,” Matteo’s voice comes from the door behind me. I’m sitting in the guest chair at his desk, which is a mistake I usually wouldn’t make. Having my back to an open door, in a house full of my enemies, could lead to a swift death.
But, my Little Flame has me so turned around; I can’t even remember the rules I’ve put in place to stay alive this long.
“Hello.” This is the longest we’ve gone without jumping straight to the point since I’ve met him.
I don’t like it.
“I hate to call you in when I know you’re a very busy man, but I needed you here today,” Matteo crosses his office and falls into his chair. His suit, tie and trilby hat tell me he’s expecting someone else, who isn’t me.
He’s pissed. He’s gonna try to kill you. You’ve taken too long to deal with your Little Flame.
“What’s happening?”
No need to respond to my inner voice, however I’m getting the strong feeling that it’s right about Matteo’s wanting blood. But I can’t jump to conclusions. I’m already treading on very unsteady ground, and showing my teeth to the strongest mob boss in New York isn’t going to make life any easier.
“I’m going to attend a meeting at Lorenzo Napoli’s home. I want you there with me,” he says, as if I’m not the man who has slaughtered scores of Lorenzo’s men over the past few weeks and months.
Two more last night. With no planning or preparation behind it. Anyone could’ve seen me slinking toward them. Then there’s Fiametta. Sure, she hasn’t seen my face, but I’m not exactly your average Joe in build and menace. If she painted a picture of how I look, or worse, if she recognizes me, I won’t make it out of that house alive.
“Excuse me?” I widen my eyes at his request. “I’m a hired assassin, not your guard dog.”
“Yes, you’re my expert assassin. A title I will confer until the day I die.” Matteo opens one of his desk drawers, and pulls out a sterling silver hip flask. “But it’s going to be good for you, Crue. Your work has been impeccable. I thought it would take years to clear my list, and you’ve managed to complete it in months.”
“And now my sights are trained on Fiametta. I should focus on her.” He can keep his compliments. Walking into that viper’s den won’t do me any good. It’s a death sentence in waiting.
“Yes, exactly, and that’s why I want you to join me. Partly as a way to scope out their home. Really, you never know when it might come in handy, but mostly because the Napoli jewel is going to be present.” Matteo swigs from his flask and then drops it from his mouth with a loud ahh . Was that a sign of enjoyment or disgust? “For me and the men who join me, it’s a meeting. For you, it’s a reminder of what these bastards did to you. A reminder of your mission, and fuel for your fire to get the job done.”
Oh shit. Does he know something?
Of course, he does. You’re slacking. Skinned thirty men alive like it was nothing, only to stall at a pretty face. Get your head out of your ass.
“And if I decline?” I have to ask, even if the answer is staring me straight in the face.
“I’ll be tremendously upset,” Matteo’s voice shifts to cold annoyance.
“Fine, I’ll come. But do enlighten me as to what the job is. A precise rundown, preferably, so I don’t sit around Lorenzo Napoli’s home with my thumb up my ass.” There’s definitely a better way I could have put it, but Matteo doesn’t seem to mind my outburst, as he laughs giddily at it.
“Scope out security and find any vulnerabilities in Lorenzo’s defense,” he starts, before taking another long swig. “More importantly, get eyes on Fiametta. If you haven’t already, it will be a good time to draw her out and find her weaknesses. With her security ramping up, after your killing spree, we’ll have to be tactical with her. I want a show. I want Lorenzo to suffer. But I’d prefer not losing the best assassin I’ve had the chance to work with in the process.”
“I already know her weaknesses,” I say. I keep the real truth of my answer hidden, because it is that her weakness is a misguided fascination with me and the thought of my fingers inside her. “Her weakness is that she’s Lorenzo’s daughter, and that means she’s the key to my vengeance.”
“That’s my boy.” He grins sadistically. “Now, let’s go have some fun.”
In Matteo’s mind, the word, “fun ” equates to violence.
But the word sparks a completely different idea in my head.
“I’ll have to meet you there. Need to make a stop on the way.” I get out of my chair and start heading for the door.
“The meeting is at noon. Don’t be late,” Matteo says.
I grab my phone to check the time. I have two hours left to run my personal errand. Good enough for me.
After I’ve collected the necessities I need for my afternoon’s entertainment, I arrive at the Napoli residence just as the clock strikes twelve. Matteo’s parked outside, with a fleet of black SUVs tailing him. My BMW almost fits in perfectly.
And even though Matteo has brought an army with him, only he, his second-in-command, and I make our way into Lorenzo’s house. We’re led by a Napoli thug, from the front door, upstairs and onto a veranda overlooking the massive back garden.
The two titans of the mafia underworld greet each other, and so do the underbosses. There’s something about Tomas’s false smile as he shakes the Baronne consigliere’s hand that makes my blood boil. I won’t delude myself into thinking it’s because he’s Lorenzo’s man, though that’s a far sweeter thought than the truth.
His presence pisses me off because of what he did to Fiametta last night. And if we were alone, I’d probably give him a taste of his own medicine, just for scaring her. Only, I wouldn’t be shoving my cock inside him… It would be six inches of cold, sharp steel.
Once they’ve finished the niceties, Lorenzo turns his attention to me. For a brief moment, I fear he recognizes me. As the man whose mother he slaughtered in cold blood – not that he got his own hands dirty, of course. While my mom was face down in the mud, he was at home watching late night TV. But perhaps he has also had a description of me from Fiametta.
“Who’s this guy?” He asks and my fears are washed away.
“A new addition to my crew. Funnily, his name is Crue, as well,” Matteo snickers at the homophone, and gestures that I should shake Lorenzo’s fat, sweaty hand. I do, much to my irritation.
“Good to meet you, pal,” Lorenzo nods while he speaks.
I opt to stay quiet, lest I say something that may get me into trouble.
“He a mute or something?” Lorenzo turns his attention back to Matteo.
“I think he is nervous about meeting you. Or maybe it’s because I may have let slip that Fiametta is going to be here today,” Matteo says. On hearing his daughter’s name, Lorenzo’s eyes instantly narrow in irritation.
“Yes, well, she’ll be out soon. And as hard as it is to admit, she’s the reason I’ve called this meeting.”
“I had my suspicions from the moment it came out that Fiametta was your daughter. I know how deeply you cherished that secret.” I’ll give Matteo credit. He knows how to play the game.
“Yes. I’ve always believed that, if not for our family, we don’t have much to live for,” Lorenzo sighs. If I were normal, perhaps that would’ve set me off. Hearing him talk about family so longingly, when he stole the only part of mine, I had left. Instead, I’m more interested in the look on Fiametta’s face when I give her the surprise, I picked up on my way here.
“It’s part of the reason I wanted to keep her hidden. Keep her safe. But this world of ours is full of ups and downs.”
He breaks contact with my hand and finds his seat. The rest of us follow suit.
“Y’know, I’ve always been prone to the saying, if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans,” Matteo says. “But don’t worry, old friend, whatever you’ve called us here for, we’ll see to it that it happens.”
And just as we all get comfortable, Fiametta steps through the door leading onto the veranda. She’s wearing a summer dress that bears a striking resemblance to the color of my eyes. Mixed in with the green are white flowers. In the first few seconds of her entrance, the whole table falls quiet. Every single one of us is basking in her stunning elegance and beauty.
Her face. Look at her face. You can’t keep staring at her tits. My inner voice roars in the back of my head. It’s right, too. Lorenzo would no doubt have me hung in the dense overgrowth of trees in his garden if he thought I had interest in his daughter.
But looking at her face is an even bigger mistake than inspecting her body. Because her wide eyes are glued to mine, and her jaw has dropped so far, it’s practically part of the floor.
She recognizes me .