Page 31 of Empire of Seduction (New York State of Mafia #2)

fourteen

. . .

Vito

Once the SUV stopped in the gravel lot, I climbed out. Michael, Beppe, and Tommaso were waiting for me. I’d calmed down considerably on the ride, but I was still anxious to see Maggie for myself. I had to know what happened today.

Tommaso was the first to approach me. “Where?” I barked.

“In the cellar,” he said. “Way in the back.”

“Did anyone go down to talk to her?”

“I told them not to. Figured you’d want to do that yourself—and you’d want privacy for groveling.”

“You think I have something to apologize for.”

A rueful smile broke out on Tommaso’s weathered face. “When it comes to women, we always have something to apologize for. The trick is finding out what specifically at any given moment.”

I mulled this over, but it still didn’t make sense. Maggie had been pissed about having Beppe trail her all day, but was that enough to send her hiding from everyone? Before I left to get answers, I had one more question. “Did the workmen finish at the cottage?”

“Yes,” Tommaso confirmed. “About an hour ago. You’re all set.”

“Va bene. Now take Beppe out of my sight. I’ll deal with him later.” Looking over at the other Fiorentino sibling, I shouted, “Michael! With me.”

Beppe took a step forward, his expression nervous. “Don D’Agostiono, I beg your forgiveness.”

“We’ll talk later,” I said in our language. “But you fucked up today.”

“Mi dispiace,” he said, strangling the cap in his hands.

Tommaso clapped a hand on Beppe’s shoulder and steered him in the direction of the cottages. Michael drew closer, saying, “Don’t be too mad at him. Maggie knows this place a lot better than Beppe does.”

“That’s no excuse for not doing his job. What’s the quickest way to the cellar?”

He pointed to the right side of the building. “This way. Follow me.”

As we set off together, I asked, “Tell me why. You know her. Why did she disappear to the cellar?”

“There are rooms down there to hide in. She goes there when she’s upset.”

Hide? Upset?

I didn’t understand. She was fine earlier.

Angry over having a guard, but she wouldn’t disappear over that.

I assumed that matter was settled when she told me to fuck off.

True, I hadn’t answered her questions about what was going on, but she already knew that I couldn’t.

I’d been very explicit about it. She needed plausible deniability if I was ever arrested.

No, I was still missing something when it came to this woman—and I never missed anything . I was good at reading people, good at solving puzzles. I knew her. Yet I was struggling to keep up.

“I belong to Vito D’Agostino and no one else.”

Fuck yes, she did. So why was I always one step behind with her?

Michael and I reached the locked door. Instead of punching in the security code, he paused. “Listen, Vito. She won’t like you finding her down there. It’s an unspoken rule that?—”

“I don’t give a shit about unspoken rules, Michael. You’re not stopping me from going down to her.”

Michael held up his hands, palms out. “I figured you might say that, but she’ll be pissed at me for telling you where she went.”

“Who would you rather have pissed at you: me or your sister?”

“Fair. But try to keep my name out of it, okay? I don’t want her mad at me again.”

“I won’t tell her.” As Michael punched in the security code, I thought of something. It was late in the day and Maggie had been down there a long time. “Is my brother in the kitchen?”

“Yeah. He arrived about thirty minutes ago.”

“Tell him I’d like food brought out to my cottage. As soon as he can. Doesn’t matter what—” I nearly smacked my forehead as I suddenly remembered. “Ask Maz if he can make a meatball sub.”

“Okay, I’ll ask. You’ll find her way in the back, in one of the old rooms off to the right.”

Michael flicked on the lights, then stepped back outside as I descended the cellar steps.

It was quiet, not a sound. The light illuminated only the main tasting area, so I turned on the flashlight on my mobile and went deeper into the cellar, toward the darkness.

Cobwebs draped the unlit sconces on the walls and casks lined each side of the old stone floor.

I shined my light in every doorway. On my fourth try, I saw a lump curled up on a leather couch.

Angelo mio .

The tight band around my heart eased. There she was, breathing softly as she slept, her eyes closed, still wearing her coat. She was okay. Unharmed, at least physically. Thank Christ.

I saw a bottle of spirits on the table and frowned. I didn’t like her drinking alone down here. What if she fell?

Coming closer, I shined the light on the wall above her, so it wasn’t directly in her face. She looked so peaceful, so fucking beautiful. Then I noticed tracks on her face. Had she been crying?

My stomach dropped. I hated the idea of her down here drinking and crying. If she was still mad at me, why not yell and scream at me? Why go off and hide?

Fuck this.

I turned off the light and put my phone away, then I slid my arms underneath her and lifted her up gently, holding her close. The movement roused her. Startled, she sucked in a breath and jerked. “W-what the fuck? Vito, is that you?”

I kissed her forehead. “It’s me. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

She settled into me, wrapping her arms around my neck as I carried her toward the exit. “You weren’t supposed to find me here,” she said, her voice groggy.

“No?”

“I just wanted to be alone for a few minutes.”

“You’ve been missing for four hours.”

She shook her head against her arm. “No, that can’t be right.”

The corridor was dark, so I followed the light from the tasting room. “You disappeared at lunch time. It’s almost five.”

“Well, someone wore me out last night.”

“You had everyone worried about you.”

“Were you worried?”

How could she even ask such a ridiculous question? “I don’t like you drinking and crying alone. It’s not safe down here.”

“It’s perfectly safe, and that’s my own private breakdown room. You’re not supposed to know about it.”

Breakdown?

I decided not to press her. Not here, not now. Later, when she was relaxed with food in her stomach. I could smell the spirits on her breath. “Did you eat lunch, or just drink whiskey?”

“Just whiskey.”

Good thing I asked for Maz to send food. We entered the main room and she shielded her eyes from the overhead light. “You can put me down. I’m awake and I can walk.”

“No chance,” I said and started up the steps.

I went to the cellar door, the one Michael had opened earlier, but there was a sign about an alarm sounding if I tried to leave. “How do I disable the alarm?”

“There’s no alarm. That sign is just for show.”

Cristo santo. Did she and Michael not prioritize their safety at all? “I’m fixing that tomorrow,” I promised and pushed through the metal door.

Now we were outside, the waning daylight casting shadows on the ground. When I went to the right, toward my cottage, she said, “Seriously, Vito. I’m perfectly capable of walking home. I’m not some weak Victorian heroine who needs a man to carry her around. And I’m not having sex with you tonight.”

“You are not going home. We are going to the cottage. And no one thinks you are weak because you cry. You are one of the strongest people I know.”

I couldn’t see her expression, but I could feel her wrestling with this information. “Do you mean that?”

Was she used to men lying to her? “I never say things I don’t mean.”

In response, she kissed my throat, right under my chin. “Please, put me down.”

“No. I’m afraid you’ll run off again. I want to take you to the cottage and feed you, then relax with you. And I don’t want to argue about it.”

“I won’t argue. I’ll come with you, te lo prometto.”

The use of my language pleased me. And I believed her.

So I set her on her feet and took her hand.

We walked in silence, the dying winter light stripes of blue and purple and pink around us.

There were no sounds, no horns. No birds.

Just the two of us. If I were a romantic man, I would’ve said the night was perfect.

We turned the corner and the cottage came into view. When she saw the deck, she just shook her head and exhaled loudly. “You are a real pain in the ass, D’Agostino.”

A large jacuzzi tub had been installed today on the deck, surrounded by a new privacy fence. The jacuzzi was the top of the line and cost almost thirty grand. “You said you wanted to soak your pussy.”

Her mouth fell open and she looked over sharply. “You bought this because I was sore? I thought this was one of your upgrades.”

I didn’t say anything.

“You know,” she said. “You make it really fucking hard to be mad at you sometimes.”

We climbed the steps to the deck, and I dropped her hand so I could open the door. “Mad at me ? I should spank your ass for worrying everyone. For scaring me half to death today. And you told me to fuck off.”

She went inside the cottage and I followed, closing us in. She pointed to a new piece of furniture. “Oh, my god. A new couch, too?”

I hung up my jacket, then took hers and did the same. She wandered over to the kitchen island. “Vito, I don’t want a guard. But if you’re making me have one, at least have the decency and respect for me to tell me why.”

“You believe I don’t respect you? Ma dai, Maggie.”

“What does that phrase mean? That I’m right?”

I gave her a hard stare as I took a bottle of water out of the fridge and set it down in front of her.

“No.” I uncapped my own bottle of water.

“I’m not telling you why because I want to protect you.

Also, I’m giving you a guard to protect you.

Everything I’m doing to improve security around here? To protect you. ”

“That’s a bullshit answer and you know it.”

I rubbed my jaw and thought about how to proceed. I really didn’t want to fight with her. She drank her water, her gaze never leaving my face.