Page 29 of The Enforcer’s Revenge (Untamed Hearts #4)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
S o, they drove.
All the way to motherfucking Tampa.
The second Nova sprung the Don from lock-up, they took off.
Carina promised to stay with Carlo, and she had Brianna to help.
Tino didn’t like leaving them with a war going on, but there was so much mob muscle guarding the Don’s place that no one was breaking in or out of that compound.
They should be able to keep Carlo locked down until Tino and Nova got back.
Romeo wouldn’t stay at the mansion, and Tino found himself texting manically every time Nova was behind the wheel, constantly finding reasons to check in with his brother, the girls, even a few of his cousins who were holed up with the rest of the family, just to make sure everything was okay.
Carlo didn’t have a cell phone, and even if he had, Tino knew he wouldn’t have answered, so he kept in contact with Carina and Brianna instead.
The girls seemed to need it, and Tino didn’t feel too bad about the constant checking in with them.
Romeo was tolerant as well, and he promised he was training in the apartment rather than going to the dojo.
That made Tino feel better because he knew Nova had a small army guarding the building, even if Romeo didn’t.
It wasn’t until they passed the Florida border through Georgia that Nova and Tino started to make a plan, which, more than anything, should’ve told Tino how far gone Nova was to the stress.
He wasn’t the sort of guy to wing things.
Nova was also, Tino discovered, not fantastic at going undercover. That was surprising enough to wake him up a little.
Tino was driving, which was another big warning flag. Nova didn’t give two shits that Tino was behind the wheel of his Bentley. All of a sudden, it seemed Nova’s car wasn’t much of a priority.
“I say we just go in like we would for any other negotiation.”
“If we show up in this car, with you flashing your Bespoke Italian threads and gold tie, their security is going to call someone,” Tino pointed out. “That would be very bad , Casanova.”
“We can’t go to her apartment. I’m sure they’ll have it guarded, with video feeds pointed in every direction.”
“She’s not Carina,” Tino reminded him. “It’s not the same level of security. I know because I saw what they were doing when they had money, and it wasn’t that great. Now they’re broke as a motherfucker.”
“I’m sure they’re protecting her, and I’m double fucking sure they have video feeds from the club that someone in their Borgata is watching as we speak,” Nova argued.
“You think the Brambinos don’t keep an eye on their investments?
Especially now? People respect a suit. They fear it, and fear creates weakness.
If they’re going to recognize us anyway, we might as well go in demanding respect. ”
Tino tried very hard not to roll his eyes because he felt like he was listening to the Don with all that respect shit, but at least Nova was talking.
It was something after he’d spent most of the trip silent, like the images burned into his brain over the past thirty-six hours had shocked him quiet.
“If you wear a suit to a strip club in a beachy place like Tampa, it’ll make you look like an idiot.
You’ll stand out. You’re not there to fucking date them.
You’re there to buy them,” Tino argued as he kept his eyes on the road.
“As long as you bring your money clip, they’ll pay attention to you.
That’s how it all works. You don’t have to be cool. ”
Nova put a hand to his forehead at that, looking like he might get sick. “Whatever, Valentino,” he finally said. “I don’t give a fuck what we wear.”
Nova checked out again.
Tino kind of did, too, but fortunately, this sort of thing was what Tino did for a living, so he went on autopilot. When he saw a billboard advertising an outlet mall, he decided to pull off.
Nova finally looked up from the stock market site on his phone and said, “What are we doing?”
“Shopping.”
“For what?” Nova gave him a look like he thought Tino was the one who had checked out.
“I’ve got an idea.”
Nova was silent as Tino parked and then said, “I’m gonna hate this idea, aren’t I?”
Tino didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, you’re definitely gonna hate it.”
Tino took extra time on his hair, styling it a little higher than he normally would. Nova was so fucking disgusted he didn’t bother.
“At least use some gel,” Tino said as he looked at himself in the hotel mirror and spied Nova sitting on one of the beds behind him.
In response, Nova flipped him off without glancing up from his phone. “Here’s your gel.”
“You know,” Tino turned around, “it doesn’t look that bad. You’re dressed like one of those guys from Milan on fashion week.”
Nova looked up and arched a dark eyebrow in annoyance. “I’m wearing loafers with no socks. Don’t talk to me right now.”
“I have good taste, Casanova. If someone didn’t know anything about your job or what an introspective, cranky asshole you are, they would think that look is amazing on you.
It works.” Tino turned back to the mirror and studied himself.
“I look good too,” he decided as he admired himself in khaki pants, a dark blue blazer, and a white, open-collared shirt that he’d undone down to the third button.
He straightened the crucifix he was wearing and couldn’t help but flinch at that.
“I could do without this much jewelry. Reminds me of the Don, but the rest of it is very workable.”
“Valentino, if you start wearing high waters this fucking tight on a regular basis, I’m disowning you.”
“The pants don’t look bad,” Tino promised him. “And it doesn’t kill you to wear light colors. I would’ve given you the beige, but your waist is bigger than mine, and I need the jacket. I’m the one packing.”
Nova didn’t acknowledge him as he sat there on the edge of the bed, a light blue, micro-checkered collared shirt opened down to the third button to show off the crucifix around his neck that matched the one Tino was wearing.
Nova’s thighs were spread in typical, macho Sicilian behavior, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at his phone.
There weren’t many men who could wear white pants like Nova had on and make them work, but his brother did.
The best lies were the ones closest to the truth.
Tino did have the thought of taking a picture of Nova in those pants to show Romeo and Carlo when they got home. It was a habit. It was what he would’ve done two days ago, and the second the thought popped into his head, Tino’s breath caught so violently that Nova noticed.
“What?” his brother asked sharply.
“Nothing.” Tino shook his head, feeling like the laughter was a million miles away and they’d never find it again. Instead, he said, “You’re really leaving your hair like that? You’re not gonna shave or anything?”
“Cazzo.” Nova threw his phone on the bed and stood. He looked at himself in the mirror, obviously annoyed, but still he decided, “Gimme the gel.”
Tino put the gel next to him. He set a new razor there, too. The shaving cream he used before he got in the shower and the bottle of cologne they bought at the outlet mall. Tino didn’t realize how much he needed to see real life in his brother again.
It felt cardinal to survival.
Yes, there was a war, but they’d survived everything else.
And yes, their zio was shattered, but once they got past this, they could help put Carlo back together—somehow.
There was no fix for losing Lola, but Tino was certain she wouldn’t have wanted this to break them. She’d want them to fight back. To stay strong, like she always did—no matter how badly life fucked with her.
Nova had taken off his shirt and started shaving. Tino couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief his brother probably noticed.
“I’m not using that merda.” Nova cast an annoyed glance at the cologne on the counter.
“You gotta wear it. Siciliani are supposed to smell good.”
“Thank you so much for informing me about how a Siciliano is supposed to behave. I had no idea,” Nova snapped at him. “The Clive Christian’s in my bag.”
“You packed your Clive Christian but forgot your razor?” Tino asked in disbelief, pissed off he didn’t know that because he would’ve used it too.
“My travel bag is prepacked in case I have to take off for the Don. I have a razor. You just handed me this one,” Nova explained as he tilted his head back and worked on shaving his neck because he hadn’t shaved since the day before Carina dragged them out of bed too early on the fourth of July.
“I have my gel in there, too. I’m not using this either. ”
Tino set Nova’s Clive Christian cologne next to him, along with the gel he packed and Nova’s toothbrush and toothpaste. “You can’t even smell the difference anyway.”
“I can smell you right now,” Nova said with another annoyed glance at Tino. “And if I can smell it?—”
“Minchia! Why didn’t you fucking tell me you brought something better, and if you say you forgot, I’m laying you out, Casanova.”
Nova laughed. A real, genuine laugh as he rinsed his razor under the steaming hot water. “That was payback for these tight ass, high water pants I’m stuck wearing.”