Page 60 of Filthy Little Regrets (Princes of NYC #2)

thirty-eight

CASSIA

Mamma Lucia’s is busy, full of hungry patrons, smiling families.

On the outside looking in, it’s a typical restaurant, but all you have to do is walk in and let your gaze travel toward the farthest reaches of the dining room to see the difference.

There, in the shadowy recesses, are made men standing sentinel in front of a table for eight.

Next to that table is another full of mafiosos with steel in their eyes and blood on their hands.

Vito is sitting with his mistress, a pretty young woman with a pouty bottom lip and perky tits. She stares at him like he could give her the world. He’s more likely to kill her.

Tony shifts next to me, eyeing the table through the restaurant’s window. “Are you sure about this?”

“We don’t have a choice.” Adjusting the strap of the duffel, I turn and search his face as a breeze sweeps down the street, whipping my hair back. “You don’t have to come with me, you know that, right?”

He raises his eyebrows. “And leave you alone with the fucking Marinos? Mace would kill me. ”

“This could go sideways,” I tell him. “I don’t expect you to put your life on the line for me.”

Tony laughs, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, that’s what I get paid for.”

My eyes narrow. “Call me sweetheart again, and I’ll make you eat your balls.”

“If I thought you’d follow through, I might be scared of you, but...” He holds his hand an inch over my head, lips twitching when my scowl deepens. “I’m just fucking with you, Cass. I know what you’re saying, but I’m here for you. Let me help.”

Sighing, I nod and turn toward the door, pulling my shoulders back and heading into Mamma Lucia’s.

There’s nothing quite like the scent of freshly cooked pasta and bread, and the warmth of the restaurant wraps around me.

There’s no comfort in it today, though. If anything, it’s irritating.

Everyone is eating like the world isn’t about to crack.

The hostess beams at us, but I bypass her, ignoring her shocked inhalation and quick excuse me . Tony murmurs something to her. The men surrounding Vito all straighten, jaws tightening as I make a pointed approach, heading straight for their boss.

One steps in front of me, the biggest of the group, who’s wearing a suit more fit for a boardroom than a thug. He juts out his chin and gives me a once-over. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

My hand falls to my pocket. “I need to talk to Vito.”

The guy glances at Tony, poking his tongue in his cheek and looking back at his guys, as if to say, you hear this broad ? The guy glances at me with amusement in his gaze. “He’s busy, sweetheart.”

“Cheating on his wife, yes, I know. Move.”

His eyes narrow and he steps into my space. “Are you and I going to have a problem?” Before he reaches for his gun, I press the mini-taser to his junk. Sometimes violence is the answer.

“You’re making a scene,” I murmur, eyeing his men, who have stepped closer, and scowl. I don’t have time for this. “Step aside, or I send ninety-two million volts into your nuts.”

“You’re dead,” the guy snarls, reaching for his gun and immediately seizing up when I turn on the taser. The snaps of electricity are muffled by his pants, but he shouts in pain, causing a few people nearby to gasp and scuttle out of their chairs.

“Gun!” someone shouts. “Gun!” That sends a ripple of panic through the restaurant, and people start to run for the door.

The guy I’m tasing starts to fall, and I move with him, keeping the prongs pressed against his balls as electricity surges through his body, making him writhe. More than a few guns are pointed my way when he hits the ground.

I switch the taser off, an eerie calm coming over me, even in the face of so many weapons. Death is an old friend and it never comes for me.

“Fuck, Cassia,” Tony says, edging closer to me. “This is a good way for us to die.” The soft click of his safety has gooseflesh running down my arms.

Getting Vito’s help is probably the only chance we have of rescuing Mace from the bratva, and as crazy as it sounds, I’m willing to take my chances with death to get him back.

My attention skips to Vito, who is standing behind his table, brow furrowed. “We need to talk,” I tell him, ignoring his men closing in.

Vito shakes his head. “Kill her.”

My pulse spikes, proof that I still have some sense about me.

But the rest of it flees when I glare at the goon who presses a gun to my head where I’m still kneeling.

This guy is gorgeous, but there’s something vicious in his eyes that sends a chill through my body. His finger inches toward the trigger.

He really will kill me.

“It’s about Morozov!” I shout, cringing away from the gun.

Vito holds up a hand to steady his man. “What about that Russian fuck?”

“Tell your men to stand down,” I say, setting the taser down. “Tony?”

“This is a bad fuckin’ idea,” he growls.

Every second wasted is another second I might lose Mace. Rage grips my chest tight. “Put the fucking gun down, Tony!” I snap.

With another round of curses, he sets the weapon on the ground. I lift an eyebrow, holding Vito’s gaze. “Your turn.”

He chuckles, jaw clenching, and he calls off his men with a singular nod of his head. Most fall back, guns held at their sides, but the one with the weapon to my head waits a full three seconds before doing the same. My throat bobs. I’ll have to keep an eye on him.

They all still have guns, but I know this is as close as I’ll get to disarming them.

I stand, eyeing them like they’re about to shoot, then take a step toward Vito.

Though the men shift, they all keep their guns down, except for the one.

His hardened eyes sear into my soul, and in that instant, I see all the blood on his hands.

All the people he’s killed without even flinching.

Dread sucks the air out of my lungs and my heart starts to hammer.

Maybe Death has changed its mind, or rather, maybe he changed Death’s mind.

“Alec.”

The man in front of me, Alec, steps back as quickly as he had stepped forward, gun dangling loosely at his side, but he’s fooling exactly no one. He’ll be the first to shoot me.

Chewing on my cheek, I close the distance between me and Vito, keenly aware of Alec’s hawklike gaze pinned on me. Tony is practically on top of me by the time we stop at Vito’s table. This is probably way outside of his pay grade.

Vito’s pretty date is staring, mouth agape, eyes round and full of fear.

“First time?” I ask her.

She snaps her mouth shut and glares at me. Vito sends a warning look in her direction, and she quickly glances at her hands in her lap.

“Morozov,” Vito demands. Meaty fingers pressing into the white tablecloth, his half-eaten pasta sits between his hands.

“They’ve bought an entire logistics company. Freight, barge, planes, trucks.”

“And what about it?” Despite his questions, I can tell the wheels are already spinning.

This is the part where I’m gambling, but the odds are on my side.

The Marinos are known for a lot of things, but mainly cocaine.

“Morozov’s nephews just started working at Red Hook Container Terminal.

” How that slipped by his attention, I’ll never know.

Remy texted me a summary of the bratva’s movements over the last year.

Everything points to them trying to push Vito out of the port.

Vito’s gaze darkens, the threat to his territory clear. I don’t know much about mafia- bratva relations, but I’m guessing they’re not good, especially not when they’re in competing markets. “How do you know this?”

Sighing, I reach into the bag. The guns come back up, but I only stiffen when I sense Alec stepping toward me. “I’m grabbing some papers.”

“Slowly,” Vito commands.

I draw the papers out, side-eyeing Alec, whose jaw is set and eyes narrowed. My heart trembles, but I stay steady, despite how terrifying this whole situation is. I have to save Mace. With that steely resolve straightening my spine, I rip my attention off him and focus on Vito.

“Darius betrayed you,” I tell him, handing off the contracts. “Struck a deal with Morozov.” Giving him a second to read, I glance at his date again, who is sitting like a good little pet. Quiet. Subdued. It’s kind of sad, but she knows who she’s dating. Or if she didn’t, she sure as hell does now.

“Fucking Astor. Is this real?” he asks, flipping through the contract.

“Straight from Darius’s personal safe.”

Vito’s eyes lift to meet mine. “Is that so?”

“You can stop this. Darius is with Morozov’s men now, getting ready to sign the contract.” I conveniently leave Adalie out of it because there’s no way I’m giving this asshole any bargaining chips.

Vito tosses the contract onto his plate, the red sauce splattering all over the tablecloth. “What do you want?”

“They have Mace,” I tell him, fighting to keep my voice from wobbling. “All I want is for you and your men to go take care of your rodents before you have an infestation.”

“How do I know Mace isn’t a part of his father’s plan?”

I lift an eyebrow. “You know he’s not.”

“So, he’s innocent? ”

“It’s not his name on the contract,” I remind him.

“Darius is the head of the family. Mace didn’t even know about the contracts until I.

..found them.” I’m not sure why I hesitate to admit I stole the paperwork.

Revealing this sort of skill to the mafia feels like a bad idea.

The last thing I want is for Vito to think of me as another tool.

His calculating gaze sweeps over me. “I remember you, you know.”

I bite my cheek, waiting to see if that’s a good or bad thing.

“This is twice now you’ve wound up in my business.

” Vito buttons his suit jacket and rounds the table, rubbing his jaw as he stops beside me.

“This is the last time you’ll leave with your life.

” He holds my stare for a few seconds to make his point.

There is something terrifying in the way he watches me, but compared to Alec’s presence, Vito almost seems docile.

He’s not, though. This is a man I don’t want to cross.

I nod. “I understand.”

“Good. Now, where are these Russian motherfuckers staying?”