Page 30 of The Bonventi Hitman

"You know how Enzo is. And the Russians and Irish in bed—who would have thought?"

"I'm not surprised. Damn Italians want too much. You make a decision?"

"No, they brought it to me tonight. I need to decide if what they're offering is worth the squeeze."

"Fucking Bonventis."

"Relax, relax. Enjoy yourself. Now's not the time."

The one who cursed the Italians sets down his drink and walks away. The man he was talking to turns to face me, and I recognize him instantly.

Nikolas Demitrakis.

He looks me up and down and then openly, without a care in the world, stares at my chest. A smirk comes across his lips.

"What's a pretty little thing like yourself doing at the bar all alone?"

I smile, keeping my nerves down. "Tired of watching Luca play cards."

The smile disappears from his face.

"Luca Romano?"

I nod.

"Don't drink too much of that stuff, honey," he says and walks away.

I don't plan to.

Nikolas Demitrakis is the leader of the Demitrakis crime family. The Greek family has been on the FBI radar for some time, but Bill told me they're small-time players and take what the Bonventis allow or don't want.

It seems the Italians are asking for the Greeks' help to go against the Russians and possibly the Irish as well.

I turn to look back at the table where Luca was playing cards, but he's gone. I scan the room, but he seems absent.

I leave my drink and walk out into the main room. I check the hallways, dance floor, and open areas, but he's not there.

I'm about to head outside when a strong hand grabs my arm, startling me.

"Where the fuck are we going?" Luca snarls, as he pulls me in the opposite direction.

"I—I was just getting some air," I stammer, trying to play it cool.

"Fuck that," he yells. "My wife is out there making a fucking scene in the backyard; we're leaving."

He continues to drag me toward the exit, his grip tight on my arm, and it starts to hurt. I don't fight or give any resistance; I feel like he'll snap my arm off.

We make it outside, and he approaches the valet.

"Bring me my car."

"What about your driver, sir?"

"Fuck waiting for my driver. I'm driving."

"Yes, yes, right away."

Luca's sleek black sedan with tinted windows pulls up, and he opens the passenger side door and shoves me inside, slamming it shut behind me.