Page 93 of The Enforcer's Revenge

Then Carlo tilted his head, looking over Tino’s shoulder, like he saw something he didn’t like. Tino shoved his hand under his jacket for his gun. The three of them were sitting with Tino facing one way and Carlo the other. They had Nova against the wall between them, but they were still out in the open.

Tino had nearly pulled his 9mm out right in front of the busy street, but Nova smiled and held out his arms. “Tony!”

Tino turned around to the man who had obviously stopped behind him, but his stomach jolted when he saw which Tony it was.

Tino wasn’t nearly as excited as Nova about the new arrival.

Tony De Luca had been trapped behind the lines with Tino when he was a victim of the Brambinos’ sex trafficking. They were part of the same crew, and because of that, Tony held in his hands some of Tino’s deepest secrets.

Truthfully, Tony held the most secrets, more than even Lola—a lot more.

Tino noticed he was wearing a brown Versace jacket with the sleeves pushed up. His belt and matching shoes were Versace, too. He left his jacket open, showing off a white button-down dress shirt underneath. The first three buttons were undone, and his beige slacks fit him perfectly. He looked like he walked off a modeling job, and Tino wasn’t sure what to do with that.

It was a completely different vibe for him.

Not the model-perfect, since Tony had always been too handsome for his own good, but Tino had never seen him like this, with a wealthy, wearing only designer threads, model-perfect look. Tony used to have more of a skater boy, school dropout, rebel without a cause, hair in his eyes, always the bad boy ascetic with the attitude to match.

Now here he was, looking older and classier, like all those years had left no mark. Talk about blindsided, especially sitting outside in the spring sunshine at Pietro’s with his brother and zio.

“And who the fuck is Tony?” Carlo asked in Italian to no one in particular, obviously testing to see if Tony could understand him.

It made sense because Tony was averybig guy. De Luca tall, broad, and muscular. Even with the spring high-fashion, business casual look he was sporting, he still looked intimidating. Like all the De Lucas, Tony was extremely Siciliano. His inky black hair was a lot shorter than it used to be, but still styled in a way that partially hid his intense, dark gaze.

More than his size and coloring, Tony had a presence that warned of something hard underneath. There was no way to hide it, especially from a seasoned enforcer like Carlo.

But Nova ignored Carlo’s paranoia and put out his cigarette. He didn’t bother to answer Carlo because Nova likely knew what Tino did.

Tony didn’t speak Italian.

Nova pushed his chair back, already holding out his arms to hug Tony as he stood.

Carlo’s frown deepened while he watched Nova and Tony embrace. They looked very comfortable, like old friends, and it was strange enough that Carlo leaned over and asked Tino in whispered Italian, “Is he a friend of ours?”

“No, but he’s a friend of mine—and Lola’s.” Tino used mafia code to vouch for Tony in one of the deepest ways possible within their world. There were very few people Tino would do it for, and Carlo more than anyone knew that. That was why he had to explain, “Nova got him out with the Brambino deal.”

“Oh.” Carlo’s hard edge softened, and he dropped his voice before he asked, “What family?”

“De Luca.”

“There’s a De Luca bastardo?” Carlo looked scandalized. “Holy shit, which one?”

“The one.” Tino gave Carlo a pointed stare. “Big Daddy Don De Luca himself.”

“Coglioni.” Nova turned around from talking to Tony and held his hands up at the two of them. “He knows his own fucking name.”

“Tino.” Tony smiled, looking more amused than insulted. “How you doing?”

Not like Tony didn’t know he was Don De Luca’s dirty secret.

“Alright.” Tino leaned back in his chair and reached out his hand to Tony. When Tony grabbed it, Tino asked, “How you doing?”

“Alright.” Tony’s smile broadened. “I live up the street, and you know I gotta stop and pay my respects to the Zu.”

“I get it.” Tino squeezed Tony’s hand tighter, forgetting to be uncomfortable over what this man knew because Tino knew shit about him too.

Tony was a fucking warrior.

The kind that would’ve scared Tino if he didn’t respect and trust Tony as much as he did. Tino had been through a lot of shit, but Tony was one of the few men who could still make him feel new. Like Nova and poker, Tony was a genuine boss at the survival game.