Page 38 of Mafia Darling

That answered the question of whether D’Agostino’s soldiers had talked. Cristo, what a mistake. I said, “I wouldn’t expect you to bother yourself with a squabble between two capos.”

“I’m here to reason with you.” Mommo gave me a paternal smile, as if he was genuinely worried about me. “D’Agostino has powerful allies. This computer thing that he runs, with the scams and credit cards, it makes many people a lot of money. They are all wondering what will happen to this money if D’Agostino does not return.”

I was in the process of assuming Enzo’s operations, but I wouldn’t tell anyone yet. Not until I wrestled control from Enzo’s siblings, who were annoyingly stubborn about the entire thing. Fortunately, seeing their brother suffer on live video was going a long way to making that happen quickly. “And what of my allies? I also make a lot of money for people, including you.” Mommo distributed my product through France and into Spain.

He held up his hands. “I am here as your ally. Your father and I were great friends in the day, and the Ravazzani name is one of the most revered. But we cannot attack each other, as the Camorrista do. We are heroic, valiant, not a bunch of animals who tear one another apart.”

“I’m glad to hear we are not enemies,” I said softly. “Otherwise I might wonder why you mistrust my judgment enough to come here and question it. If we were not allies, I might consider it an offense.”

Sipping his wine, he stared at me. Then he set his glass on the desk, the big diamond on his finger flashing. I didn’t remember him wearing such a gaudy piece when I last saw him. “Fausto, you wage war over a woman, a mantenuta,” he scoffed, as though the idea was ludicrous. “Not even a wife. If you know where Enzo is, I beg you to release him before this gets out of hand.”

I leaned forward, my hospitality gone. “Either you can set La Provencia straight now or I will do it myself during Crimine in a few weeks, I don’t care. This matter is personal, not business. I will handle it as I see fit, without input from them or anyone else. What he took from me is irreplaceable, and I would expect any of you to do the same if such a move was made against your household.”

“You have her back unharmed, as I understand. Do not let a woman make you weak.”

Weak? Little wonder my teeth didn’t crack from how hard I was clenching them. Standing, I signaled the end to this meeting. “Marco, won’t you send a few bottles of ciró home with Mommo?”

My cousin inclined his head. “Of course.”

To Mommo, I said, “I wish you a safe journey home.”

He sighed and heaved out of the chair. “They will expect answers from you during Crimine, then. None of us acts alone.”

Che palle. Did he think I was new, that I didn’t know how this worked? And I didn’t care who expected answers. In the end the other bosses expected money, which they saw plenty of from me.

We shook hands, then Marco saw Mommo to the door. I waited until they were safely out of sight before slipping from my office. Fury roiled inside me, the darkness in my soul burning and scratching to be satisfied. How dare anyone interfere? Enzo had crossed a line. He invaded my property, attacked my men, stole something precious, and tried to blackmail me.

If not for the kidnapping, I could’ve begged Francesca for her forgiveness at the beach. It wouldn’t have been easy, but eventually we would have reconciled. The kidnapping had traumatized her and made her even angrier at me.

So, fuck Enzo. And fuck Mommo for daring to intercede.

Unlocking the dungeon, I slipped inside and rushed down the stone steps. The scent of damp and sweat greeted me, and I heard his labored breathing. I longed for my knife, a sharp blade to slide across skin, the bloom of warm red that followed.

To make sure he didn’t die too soon, I knew he had to recover for a few days. But when he was well enough to suffer again, I would pick up where I left off.

For now, a short visit would have to suffice. I needed to see his pain.

You didn’t care whether I lived or died, as long as I was out of your sight.

She was wrong. I cared. I cared a great deal.

Enzo was chained to the wall in one of the dungeon’s cells. We allowed him enough slack on the chains to stand, not that he was capable of it at the moment. The swelling around his eyes made it difficult to see, but by the way he stiffened it was clear he knew who’d arrived.

I unlocked the cell and went in. Bending down, I grabbed his hair and slammed his head back against the stone, causing him to groan. I snarled, “They miss you, D’Agostino, coming to me and pleading for your life. But they should know me better. There is no mercy for you, no escape. You will die here, at my hand.”

“Fuck . . . you,” he wheezed.

To annoy him, I laughed. “You will not be so defiant after our next visit, I promise you.” I let him go, and his head dropped forward. Standing, I relocked the cell, the old key scraping against the iron. “Get better, stronzo. I’m looking forward to hearing your screams.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Francesca

The castello was quiet when I came in from the vineyards, and my skin prickled in the air conditioning. It was time for a shower and a nap. Stretching out my arms to ease my aches, I climbed the stairs and turned toward my room. Rather, Fausto’s room. How could I forget? At least his bed was comfortable. That was the only upside.

Closing the bedroom door behind me, I walked in and tossed Fausto’s hat onto an armchair. I started to take off my clothes then paused. Was the shower running?

My hands froze, my mind stuck on that noise. Fausto was in there. And he was showering.

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