Page 17 of Vincenzo (The DiMaggio Crime Family #3)

AMALIA

O nce again, I’ve been doing my best to avoid Carlos while I try and figure out what to do about the DiMaggios.

He’s been up my ass the past couple of days, making suggestions, and each time, I play it off like I’ll take it into consideration, and then I leave the room or change the subject.

If I keep this up, he’s going to end up getting suspicious of me, which is why I’ve decided I need to meet with Vincenzo.

We need to have a civilized conversation and lay everything out on the table.

As I lie here in bed, staring at the ceiling of my suite, my phone rings.

“You got good news for me, Esteban?” I say, answering the phone.

“ Sí . I was able to hack into Senor DiMaggio’s cameras in his penthouse. It wasn’t easy. Their system is nearly impenetrable, but I got in. He’s not there right now.”

“Perfect.”

I want to catch him off guard. Every time I’ve had a conversation with him, it’s been on his terms. He’s always prepared, waiting for me to come to him or barging in on me at inopportune times, so this time, I’m taking the lead.

“When will you be heading over?” Esteban asks.

I sit up in bed and swing my legs over the edge. “Heading over now. I’m not sure when he’s going to show back up, so keep an eye on the cameras, and I’ll let you know when I get there. You’ll be able to gain access to it, right?”

“I should be able to, but there might be a backup override system in place, so it’s best we try it when you’re there. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to gain access for.”

“Are you saying I could get stuck in the elevator, Esteban?”

“Possibly.”

“Well, at least you’re honest,” I mumble, grabbing my coat off the chair. “I’m on my way now. I’ll call you when I get there.”

“There’s only one way to access the penthouse elevator. You need to go to the private underground garage on the north side of the building. There will be a biometric identification system I’ll need to override to let you in.”

How fancy …

“Got it. I’ll call you in a bit.”

When I leave the suite, Carlos isn’t anywhere to be found, but I’m thankful for that. I didn’t want to have to come up with an excuse as to where I was going.

When I get to the address Esteban sent me, I locate the underground garage and call him.

“I’m here,” I say into my phone.

“Un momento,” he says. One moment.

After what feels like several long minutes of me skittishly glancing around the area to see if Vincenzo is going to pop up, the large garage door starts opening and Esteban finally speaks. “Got it.”

“That’s it?” I ask him.

“There should be an elevator to the left. I’m working on that now.”

I quickly make my way to the elevator while the garage door closes behind me. After another few minutes, the elevator doors slide open and I wait to see if any alarms will go off, but it’s silent.

“Damn, Esteban,” I say, quirking a brow even though he can’t see me. “I’m impressed.”

He chuckles. “I know. I’m good.”

The elevator starts moving only a few seconds after I get on.

“Now is that it?” I ask him.

“ Sí . I disengaged the cameras so he won’t have access to those either. You’re good to go.”

“ Gracias , Esteban,” I say, then hang up, waiting for the elevator to reach the top floor.

When the ding finally sounds and the doors open, I pause for a moment before getting off. I peer into the apartment that opens up into a foyer with high ceilings.

When I finally step out of the elevator, I make my way through the grand space.

My heels click on the marble floor as I walk down the hall into what seems to be the living room.

I gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows, taking in the sun setting behind the tall buildings, casting its orange hues across the skies.

“Damn, this place is nice,” I mumble. It reminds me of my condo back home, but far more excessive than anything I’d ever need. My place is located in the heart of Miami, giving me the best views of the city. Similar to this place.

I continue to familiarize myself with Vincenzo’s home. The light furniture is a perfect contrast to the dark walls, and the gold accents add a cool vibe to the space.

When I make my way down another hallway, I find a couple bedrooms. They’re both large enough to be master suites, but I quickly figure out which one’s Vincenzo’s based on the closet full of clothes—suits to last a lifetime.

Being the nosy person I am, I open his nightstand and have to hold back the laugh begging to bubble past my lips when I take out two sets of shiny metal handcuffs.

“Well, this makes me wonder: is he the one that likes being tied up or…?”

I quickly drop the cuffs back into the nightstand and close it, shaking off the visualization of him being in that situation with another woman.

Opening up the drawer further, I find a red vibrator. My red vibrator.

“Pendejo,” I mutter, shoving it in my pocket.

Assuming it’ll be a while before he gets back, I decide to move my nosy self onto something else. But just when I’m about to go through some more of his things, I hear the distant sound of a ding that sounds an awful lot like an elevator.

Well, that was conveniently quick of him.

“You might as well come out.” His chilly voice echoes down the hallway. “I have a secondary silent alarm that went off the second you broke into the garage, so I already know you’re in here. If you don’t want me to shoot you, I’d suggest you make yourself known.”

Of course he does.

His threat should have me speaking up and cowering to the floor, begging for my life, but it actually brings a sly smile to my face.

Pulling my knife out of the holster around my thigh, I throw it up in the air, letting it flip a couple times before catching it.

“Alright,” Vincenzo says, his voice getting louder. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

A shadow in the hallway catches my eye, telling me he’s close. I bring my knife back over my shoulder and wait.

The door moves slightly, opening itself up a little more, and as soon as Vincenzo’s dark hair is visible, I throw my knife, aiming just to the left of his head, pinning the sharp blade into the doorframe.

The door is thrown open and Vincenzo’s gun is on me in a second. Holding my hands in the air in an innocent manner, I give him a cheeky grin. “Oops. Looks like I missed.”

“What the fuck , Amalia. Breaking into my house and trying to kill me? You must really have a death wish.”

I shrug, then drop my hands to my sides. “Please, if I really wanted to kill you, you would already be dead.”

He yanks my knife from the doorframe and turns back to me, holding it in the air with his gun still aimed directly at me. “Explain this then.”

I give him another loose shrug. “Like I said, if I really wanted to kill you, you’d already be on the floor.” I give him a small laugh that has him tilting his head at me.

“You’re fucking insane,” he mumbles but drops his gun.

“I’ve been called worse.”

“What’re you doing breaking into my apartment and helping yourself to my room?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize we had to have permission to enter each other’s rooms now.”

“You’re skating on thin ice, Amalia,” he warns, but it doesn’t have me backing down.

“It’s not very fun when someone enters your space without permission, huh?”

“Amalia …”

“Oh, relax,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I actually came here to have a civil conversation with you.”

He holds my knife in the air. “A civil conversation? With your knife in my wall less than an inch from my head?”

“Pfft, oh please, that was just for fun. Lighten up, Vincenzo.”

“You’re fucking unhinged.”

He’s not wrong.

“Look, I really am here to have a conversation with you. I know you want me gone— or so you say —so wouldn’t it be smarter for you to listen to what I have to say?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, narrowing his gaze on me.

“It means, can you just listen to what I have to say?” I repeat. What isn’t he understanding about that?

“No, the or so you say part.”

I laugh and close the distance between us, then stop directly in front of him. So close I can smell his delicious cologne wafting off him.

“Please”—I roll my eyes—“after last night, you’re not fooling anyone.

You might say you don’t want me, but everything else you do tells me otherwise.

” I give another small laugh and bite my lip.

His eyes are glued to the movement, and before I have time to process it, he moves my blade to the hand holding his gun, freeing it up to wrap it around my neck.

He pulls me to him and lowers his head to my ear. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Little Hellion. I couldn’t give two shits about you.”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that,” I say, my voice coming out tight with his hand around my windpipe. “Do you give all the girls you couldn’t give two shits about nicknames?”

Vincenzo chuckles deeply, and the sound burrows inside of me. After a few seconds of silence, he finally releases me, and I let out a couple coughs.

He brushes past me so I turn around, and he walks over to the table, placing his gun and my knife on it. “You have five minutes to tell me what the hell you’re doing here,” he says, his back still facing me.

I open my mouth to speak but am distracted when he takes his suit jacket off and folds it over the chair next to the table.

I’m mesmerized by the way his back muscles stretch the dark fabric of his button-up, and when he turns around and starts rolling his sleeves up, I don’t think I can get any more tongue-tied.

He smirks as he leans against the table, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Cat got your tongue, Little Hellion?”

I mentally shake myself out of the trance I was momentarily— and unfortunately —put in.

“The other night, you called me something that I thought was interesting.”

Vincenzo pierces me with his dark eyes.

“A kidnapper.”

He stares at me, but when I don’t continue, he finally says, “Yeah, and?”

“Why’d you call me that?”