Page 35

B enito

I chew my lip while Cristiano gets it off his chest. It’s only slightly annoying that he knew I’d had Tess tied up in the basement all along—the reason he’s giving me shit is because he kept it from Trilby. That was his choice not mine.

“I’m getting married in three days, for fuck’s sake, Benny,” he groans, rubbing his eyes. “And she thinks I’m keeping secrets from her.”

I don’t say anything. I know if I open my mouth, declarations of my innocence in that regard would come flying out, and this is neither the time nor place for the don of New York to hear some key home truths.

“What can I do?” I ask instead. “Do you want me to talk to Trilby?”

Cristiano barks out a bitter laugh. “Good luck with that. She’ll grind your balls off the mood she’s in right now.”

I narrow my eyes at the thought.

“Just… promise me you won’t tie any more of her sisters up in a basement again, okay?”

I ignore the urge to shrug nonchalantly. “I won’t.”

What I don’t say is, Tess has only told Trilby the half of it. She clearly hasn’t told Trilby that, regardless of the way she left, Tess enjoyed every single thing I did to her in that basement. I can still taste her come on my tongue and feel her peaked nipples on the tips of my fingers. Her soft skin still ripples beneath mine whenever I close my eyes. Her tight little pussy still grips my cock possessively whenever I let my mind wander back to that moment.

“The Federico thing,” Cristiano says with a begrudging sigh. “Do I need to worry?”

My chest bristles at the sound of his name and I hate that it has infiltrated first my relationship with Tess and now the equilibrium I’ve worked hard to maintain with Cristiano.

“No,” I reply. The last three weeks have been preoccupied with getting eyes on him and monitoring every move he makes, every breath he takes, every wipe of his ass. Which reminds me, I haven’t heard from Nino in a few days, the guy I sent out to California to do just that. I make a mental note to check my phone and follow up the second Cristiano finishes telling me off.

“He’s just a kid anyway. A bitter kid who can’t accept the truth.” Assuming his papa actually gave him the truth. Enzo was always a good guy before he wasn’t. Maybe I overestimated him.

“Okay, fine.” Cristiano settles a weary pair of eyes on me. “Listen, keep your distance from Tess. I don’t care how much you might want to speak to her, if Trilby sees you anywhere her sister, she’ll bust a blood vessel, and I can’t have that so close to the wedding.”

One of my vital organs thuds into the bowels of my belly. I was planning on trying to talk to Tess, to talk some fucking sense into her, but that’s off the table now.

“I will,” I concede, reluctantly. “Anything else?”

“Figure out where the Marchesi’s are. They’ve gone awfully fucking quiet. They know what’s happening this weekend and I don’t want them bursting in here and fucking up my wife’s day.”

I nod.

“In fact, get more security around the perimeter and double check all the staff IDs. I don’t want there to be any cracks for these bastards to fall through.”

“I’m on it.”

I get to my feet and re-button my jacket.

“Benny…”

The change in Cristiano’s tone makes me pause. “I know you like Tess.”

I don’t look up for fear he might see something in my eyes resembling vulnerability.

“You have to talk to her eventually—I can’t watch you walk around looking like shit forever. But not yet. Give her some space and do it after the wedding. ”

I straighten and inhale a long breath then look him directly in the eye. “Sure, boss.”

My blood is boiling as I walk out of the business suite, and that won’t do. I didn’t get to this point in my life by being a hot mess. I step outside and breathe in the warm air then take out my phone.

I notice a few missed calls from a burner, which I ignore in favor of calling Nino. He answers on the second ring and sounds out of breath.

“What’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in two days.”

“He’s gone,” Nino says, panting down the phone. “The fucker tricked me. He must have known I was following him—he waited until I was in the restroom of a diner then bailed before his food even arrived.”

“Fuck,” I spit. “When was that?”

“Tuesday, five in the afternoon.”

“So, exactly two days ago. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“I was on his tail. I almost got him twice. I only lost him for good this morning.”

My muscles brace and harden. “Where?”

“LAX.”

“You didn’t see which flight he was boarding?”

“I’m so sorry, Benito. I lost him.”

“What about the airport staff?” Tension grips my chest like an iron fist. “Couldn’t you have threatened someone? Got access to all the flight logs?”

“And alert the authorities over here? This isn’t New York, Benito. They’d have thrown me in jail and I’d be of no use to you there.”

I yell down the phone. “FUCK!”

“He’s coming to New York, Benito,” Nino says calmly. “We don’t need to be tailing him to know that. The most we can do is be ready for him.”

I inhale slowly, straighten my shoulders and smooth a hand down my tie. “Is he armed?”

A beat passes before Nino responds. “He wasn’t when he left, but there’s something else you should know.”

Irritation presses against my spine. “What’s that?”

“I got hold of his call history. There’s one number he’s been in contact with a lot. And it’s the last one he called before he left.”

“Whose number?”

“Well, that’s the concerning thing. There’s no owner data available. Nothing to say where it was purchased or when. It belongs to someone who knows exactly how to work the system.”

“It’s a burner,” I say.

“Has to be.”

“Where is this burner located? Where are the calls going to?”

From the length of Nino’s pause, I know the answer before he opens his mouth. “New York.”

I hang up and call Beppe immediately .

“We need eyes on JFK and Newark,” I bark before he has a chance to speak.

“How many?” he shoots back, reminding me of why I value him so much. He doesn’t ask fucking useless questions—he just gets on with it.

“As many as you can spare.”

“What about the hotel?”

“Covered. I’ll get a few more of Augie’s men here.”

“Who are we looking for?”

I shake my head. “You won’t fucking believe this,” I sigh. “Federico Falconi.”

“Enzo’s kid?” The upward lilt of Beppe’s question only confirms the ridiculousness of the situation—I’m rallying the troops to fend off a teenager. Well, he’s early twenties now I reckon, but still, Beppe’s right—he’s a kid. I might still be in my twenties myself, but I’ve lived a whole life in the underworld. He’s merely a tourist.

“He’s coming back here with a motive. But, it’s not what he ’s capable of that worries me.” I pinch the bridge of my nose between a thumb and forefinger. “He’s in touch with an unknown entity. That’s a risk.”

“Understood,” Beppe replies. “I’ll put a call out now, get a recent photograph and we’ll make sure he doesn’t leave whatever airport he arrives into.”

I’m about to hang up when Beppe says my name, and the way he says it makes clear he’s bearing bad news.

“What is it?”

“Our contact is dead. ”

It takes me a second to figure out who he’s talking about. “The Marchesi associate? Bigelow?”

“Yes. Him.”

I scrub a clammy palm down my face. There goes our upper hand. “How?”

“The nephews got to him. Slit his throat, threw his body on a boat and let him bleed out all over it while floating down the Connecticut River.”

“They’re sending a message.”

I can hear Beppe nodding. “We got away with it for a year.”

“And now?”

“We have no idea what they’re planning but I have a bad feeling about this Benito. The nephews have moved fast. They haven’t officially taken over as the leading members of the family, but no one seems to give a shit. They’ve taken the drug bust real personal. My guy didn’t say this outright but he may as well have done: They’re coming after us.”

Not yet , I hope silently. “I need to call Augie and make sure nothing is getting into the Hamptons. You’ll keep me posted on any sightings?”

“I will.”

“And you’ll head over here for the wedding?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks Beppe.” I hang up and stare out at the green and blue view, seeing nothing but slit throats, black lashes and parted lips.

I refuse the second refill of wine and cut into the steak. Blood oozes across the plate and I stare at it as I chew. I know if I look up my gaze will be drawn ahead and to the left, to where Contessa Castellano is sitting with her own eyes averted. I find myself yearning for the days when she would glare at me across a table, the hatred spewing forth from beneath a dark brow. She’s doing her best to angle her bare shoulders away from me but the close-knit seating plan is working against her.

“Someone cut off your tongue?”

I pan my gaze to my right and shoot a glare of my own at Nicolò. “What?”

“You’re not usually this quiet. I assumed there’d be a medical reason for it.”

“I’m preoccupied,” I snap.

“Don’t worry.” He waves a relaxed hand. “We’ve got this place locked down. No Marchesi’s are getting in here. I went through all the IDs myself and Augie has got a whole army surrounding the place.”

That does make me feel a little better.

“Good. I need to make a call.” I stand and push my chair back, which makes a loud enough noise that the whole room looks up. Her gaze burns my skin. I don’t need to make a call but I do need to get out of this room.

I can still feel the sting of her stare as I head outside and light a cigarette. I’m not a regular smoker but I need something to calm my agitated nerves. If only I had just Tess to worry about—now I have Federico fucking Falconi and the Marchesi’s-on-a-mission to contend with too .

I smoke half a pack before I eventually go back inside. Darkness has fallen but it gives me some sense of relief to see shadows in every corner. I know they’re Augie’s men watching the perimeter of the hotel.

The lights inside have been dimmed too and most of the guests have moved into the bar area. I can’t bear to see her apathy, knowing there’s fuck-all I can do about it until after the wedding, so I dip my eyes as I work my way through the designer dresses and tailored suits. My cell feels hot in my pocket as I wait for a call from Beppe. If it doesn’t come, I can only hope the Falconi kid has flown someplace else.

Just as I reach the bar, a small figure turns around, not looking where she’s going, and walks right into me, sloshing the contents of four champagne flutes over my suit. My teeth grit until I realize who it is.

“Oh gosh!” Tess gasps, then averts her eyes faster than a rat flying up a fucking drainpipe. “I’m so sorry. Can I get you a towel?”

Her question sends me right back to when she stripped down to ‘next to nothing’ and I practically threw a towel over her. “I’m not naked,” I say, then bite the shit out of my tongue.

Her cheeks flush so hard I want to lick them, and all kinds of things are happening south of my belt. And if that wasn’t unfortunate enough, I feel Cristiano’s eyes on the back of my neck, watching me doing exactly what he told me not to.

“That’s not what I meant,” she says quietly, looking at the floor .

“I know. Sorry.” I rub a hand round the back of my neck trying to erase the sensation of Cristiano’s glare. “I’ll replace those.”

I nod to the bartender who quickly pours out four more flutes of champagne while I unbutton my jacket and shrug it off my shoulders. I hang it on a hook beneath the bar and roll up my sleeves. It’s a reflex but I’d do it a million times over just to see her gaze flit to my forearms and the flush creep a little higher up her cheeks.

God, there’s nothing I want more than to reach out, take her pretty chin between my fingers and press my lips onto hers, but the sensation on the back of my neck is only growing hotter.

I place a few notes on the bar then speak to the thickly perfumed air above her head. “Enjoy your evening,” I force out. Then I turn around and walk away.