Page 4 of Precious Hazard

“You won’t insist that I’m indebted to you?” I bite out. “That I owe you my loyalty and obedience because of what you did for my family?”

“Both obedience and loyalty should be inspired by respect, Arturo. A man who would ask someone he considers a friend to do his bidding as repayment for help freely given is not worthy of that respect. What I did, I did because it was the right thing to do. You are in no way indebted to me for that.”

My gaze slides back to the glass of wine I set on the side table earlier. Ajello’s calmly spoken words have shaken me to the core.

Leaders like Salvatore Ajello are rare in our world, and I would wager nearly unheard of if one considers that world to be the dark underbelly of legitimate society. He’s the type of man who never retreats from the battlefield if it means leaving his men behind. One who has always put the welfare of his people, the Family, above all else. He nearly died for it. The crazy fucker.

Thatis the reason I respect him, the reason he’s always had my fidelity. There’s never been a time I did not follow Ajello’s command. Is refusing to marry Drago Popov’s sister worth turning my back on this man? My leader? My friend?

“Are you really going to put a bullet in my head if I don’t do it?”

He looks at me over the rim of his glass. “No. But I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d just agree.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

Honor.

Loyalty.

Commitment.

Along with traditions, those are the principles I’ve followed throughout my life, even before I swore my allegiance to Cosa Nostra at eighteen. A decade ago, when I accepted the privilege of being Ajello’s underboss, I pledged my fealty and duty to him as the Head of the Family. I’ve taken great pride in doing so.

But my loyalty toward Ajello goes beyond my dedication to him as my boss. I’ll be eternally grateful to the man, even though he’s made it clear I don’t owe him a thing for his help. Not that it matters how he feels about it, he’s earned my unwavering support.

“Wanna hear something?” I ask. “The day of Popov’s atrocious wedding carnival—”

“Svadba, you mean?”

“Yeah, that. Once I parked my car and was headed toward his mammoth house, a black cat crossed the road right in front of me.”

“Don’t tell me you believe in foolish superstitions.”

“I didn’t. Not until that day, that is. Ten minutes later, though, I met Drago’s sister.” I shake my head. “A pack of rabid dogs is less of a menace than she is. So you tell me there’s nothing to that bad omen.”

“Some cultures believe that black cats bring you good luck.”

“I guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

“Should I take that to mean you’ll marry the woman, then?”

“Yes.” A sigh escapes me. “But Tara Popov will never agree. She hates me. Probably even more than I hate her.”

“Hmm. Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to kill her brother. You’ll need to find a way to fix it. Flowers might help. Compliments, definitely. Try asking her out for coffee first.”

I squeeze my temples, groaning on the inside. Salvatore Ajello giving me advice on how to court a woman? “Because that worked so damn well for you, boss?”

“Well, you could always threaten to annihilate everyone she holds dear. When flowers failed, that’s what got me Milene. Eventually. As far as women are concerned, the key is not to go soft around them.”

Ajello’s phone starts ringing, and he shrugs as he takes it out. “Cara mia, you’re still up? … No, I didn’t have time to get the cat food, yet. I’ll do it as soon as I’m finished with Arturo. … Yes, I’m aware that Kurt has been throwing up since yesterday. The damn pest probably ate another gross bug and— … What do you mean he scratched you?” Spinning around, Ajello races toward the office door. “Stay put. I’m coming up right now. I’ll call Ilaria on the way. … I don’t care if it’s just a nick! … No, I’m not overreacting! What if it gets infected?”

A draft rushes through the room from the force of Ajello yanking the door open. He pauses at the threshold, phone still plastered to his ear, and glances back at me. “You have two months to convince your future bride to marry you.”

The door slams shut in his wake, but I can still hear the sound of his fading voice while he continues making a fuss about his wife’s damn scratch. Jesus. If anyone had told me a few years ago that Salvatore Ajello would be such a goner for a woman, I’d have laughed in their face. It’s a tragedy, really. At least no one would ever catch me losing my mind like this. Especially over anunwantedwife.

Am I seriously going along with this circus?

Yeah, I am. I gave my word, and no one can make me go against it. Most of all, not Tara fucking Popov.