Page 5 of Vincenzo (The DiMaggio Crime Family #3)

AMALIA

“ I ’m surprised you don’t know the answer to that,” I say, curious to see just how much Vincenzo knows about us.

Scowling, he says, “You really want to continue playing this little game we’ve been at for the past two weeks? Where you go around trying to cover up asking about my family by doing boring ass touristy shit?”

My eyes narrow slightly, then I relax them about as quickly as I tightened them.

But the movement doesn’t seem to go unnoticed by Vincenzo because he lets out a humorous scoff and says, “Yeah, I know you’ve been asking around about us, and I know you haven’t learned anything you can’t find out from a simple Google search. ”

“So you do know why we’re here.” I pause to see if he’ll say anything else, but he doesn’t. He continues to watch me in a certain regard. “Alright, the games are over, so let’s not pretend like you don’t know what we want.”

He smirks at me, then takes a sip of his amber drink. Setting it back down on his desk, he says, “Port access, I’m assuming?” I’m pretty sure there’s some underlying humor in that question.

“Yes, port access, Vincenzo,” I say with an exasperated sigh. The sooner we can form an alliance, the sooner I can get back home and figure out if there was any truth to what Felipe said about my parents.

He tilts his head at me, and the corner of one side of his mouth lifts. “You can call me Enzo.”

The smirk this man seems to constantly wear is getting on my nerves. Sure, it’s sexy as sin, but annoying, nonetheless.

I lift a brow at him. “I’d really rather not.”

Sitting back in his seat, he lets out a deep chuckle that I feel from across the desk. “We’ll see about that,” he mumbles.

“Look, you don’t want us here, right?”

Vincenzo nods in Carlos’s direction. “This one I could do without, but you,” he says, his gaze fixed on me. “You, I might be able to get used to.”

A sardonic laugh falls from my lips. “You’re one of those, aren’t you?”

“Well, that depends on what you mean by those .”

It’s written in the smirk on his face. Vincenzo DiMaggio is insanely good-looking with an overly confident demeanor to go with his boyish yet manly looks. One I’m sure many girls— not me— fall for on the daily.

Leaning forward in my seat, I give him the sweetest fucking smile I can muster and say, “Let’s cut the bullshit, Vincenzo . We’re here to make a deal for port access. You’re tired of the games. I’m sure as shit tired of the games, so let’s figure this out so I can go home.”

“Amalia, are you sure?—”

I cut a quick glance at Carlos, and he reluctantly lowers his gaze, allowing me to continue.

“This will go a lot easier and a lot quicker if we can work something out right here, right now,” I say to Vincenzo. “Just name your price. We can easily pay it.”

He rests his chin in his hand with his pointer finger extended to his cheek and looks between Carlos and me with a lift in his brow. “You think this is about money?”

“Isn’t everything about money?”

“If you think we’re concerned about our income, you really haven’t done your homework on us, sweetheart.” Sitting up in his seat, Vincenzo brings his arms forward and rests them on the desk. His dark eyes no longer hold the humorous glint he’s been rocking ever since I walked into his office.

“Here’s the thing, Sicaria . We don’t mind making deals with suppliers.

That’s not the issue here. The issue is that we don’t fuck around with sex traffickers.

So, you are more than welcome to go back to Miami and tell your uncle that, because the longer you stay here, the more time you’re going to waste.

The DiMaggios will never partner with the Velascos. ”

I keep my face neutral but internally wince at his words. Sex traffickers. It’s not something I’d ever consider myself, but I guess when you work for my uncle—who makes most of his money from the heinous act—then it’s not a completely unfair accusation… But still, it’s not a title I want to hold.

“You do realize that’s our most profitable source of income, right?

” Again, I internally wince at my words, hating that I have to try and sell someone on sex trafficking.

I might be a Velasco, but it’s a part of the business that’s never sat well with me.

Ask me to kill a thief—fine, that’s easy.

Ask me to convince someone that sex trafficking can line their pockets better than anything else in this world?

That brings a tidal wave of nausea through my body.

But that’s what I do. I follow my uncle’s orders, because in the end, I’m indebted to him after taking me in when my parents were murdered by a rival cartel.

No matter how shitty he can be at times.

Vincenzo scoffs. “I don’t give a fuck if that’s how you make your money. That’s not how we do shit around here.”

Knowing my uncle will demand drastic measures to get what he wants if Vincenzo doesn’t make this easy, I try one last time to convince him we could be a good alliance. “Velasco. You’ve clearly done your homework, which means you know how much influence my family’s name has.”

He narrows his gaze on me. “DiMaggio. You must also know how much influence my family’s name has.”

“I do, but when it comes to alliances, there’s no such thing as having too many.”

Vincenzo leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. “Usually, I’d agree, but when it comes to your name, there’s no way in hell.”

Ugh. Fuck this.

“If you don’t want the Velascos as an ally, are you prepared to have them as an enemy?”

“Is that a fucking threat?” he asks, not able to mask the astonishment behind it, but there’s something else there. Is that… humor? As if he finds a threat from me… funny? That would be a first…

Vincenzo lets out a laugh, confirming my suspicions. “Wow.” He shakes his head a few times, then his tone gets serious. “You know, I take back what I said earlier.”

I quirk a brow at him. “And what exactly are you referring to?”

“I could never get used to a sex trafficker,” he says, and the way he looks at me like I’m beneath him gets under my skin.

Shooting out my hands, I push myself up from my seat. “You know what, this was clearly a waste of time.”

“You think?” he snaps.

Ignoring his snide remark, I say, “I’ll inform my uncle you’re not interested in partnering. From there, he can figure out what he’d like to do next.” It’s not an outright threat, but since Vincenzo knows who we are, he knows exactly what lengths Manuel Velasco will go to get what he wants.

“Another threat, Sicaria ?”

“If I really wanted to threaten you, Vincenzo , you’d fucking know it.” Turning around, I walk toward the door with Carlos on my heel, and when I place my hand on the handle, I call out, “Until next time” before pushing through and exiting his office.