Page 13 of Arranged

“Go on,” Luis pushed.

“I had a thought. It occurred to me the other night at the party. Carmella and Dion.” He allowed the announcement of the suggested couple to hang.

Luis sat back, placing his fork gingerly on the plate. “That is an option. A good one. Dion is in line to take my place when I retire.”

To announce he had no faith in his son’s leadership skills was surprising. Dion’s face was red, but I could see excitement in his eyes. He was eating this up.

“Granted, I’m not certain my daughter will be so inclined as to entertain a marriage of convenience.” Matheas glanced up at the two of us. “However, I can try and have a frank discussion with her.”

I suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“Understandable, but she is the firstborn daughter of one of the most powerful men in America. Surely, you can help her understand the importance of her heritage.” Luis was already planning the damn wedding.

What a way to keep a war from ensuing.

“Yes, I believe I could. I’ll need a couple days before the announcement is made.”

“Absolutely. Let’s toast to our new strength, our new hold. Our new alliance.”

I took a deep breath. This was startling news and would put the other crime syndicates on notice. That alone could start a much larger war if we weren’t careful.

They continued the meeting through their meal, turning the bulk of their conversation to the lives and accomplishments of family members. I was edgy, more so than usual, even slipping out and heading to the front door.

Dion was right behind me, following me outside.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like the suggestion of me being the Don at some point?” Dion was genuinely curious.

“It’s not that. I have a strange sixth sense about this meeting. I think we need to try and have them wrap it up.”

“You and your instincts. Granted, they’ve never steered me wrong. Let me see what I can do. Stay here.”

I nodded and unfastened my suit jacket. I’d stopped two separate massacres from occurring based on my intuition alone. I walked down the stairs of the restaurant, heading toward one side of the building. There was nothing unusual happening that I could see, no strange cars parked close.

But the feeling remained, enough so that when the two Dons walked through the entrance, I immediately placed my hand on my weapon, unsnapping the holster.

I headed toward the two waiting SUVs, both as bulletproof as anything at the White House. Still, that didn’t mean the men would be safe. There were boobytraps used that could render the vehicle inoperable, thereby providing time for an attack.

I remained a few feet away, constantly sweeping the area. My senses were on high alert and a single noise drew my attention.

Another vehicle was in the distance. No, not just one, but several. They were flying in our direction. I spun around, locking eyes with Dion.

We reacted as we’d been trained to do, Lupini’s men as well. But everything happened so fast, gunfire suddenly coming from two directions.

I threw myself over Don Santorelli. “Stay down. Do not move.”

He nodded, crawling closer to the vehicle while I jumped to a standing position, the weapon already in my hand. As I fired off several shots, Lupini’s men worked with ours, able to toss Lupini into one of the waiting vehicles.

I dropped and rolled as a few men piled out of one unknown SUV, shooting four of them dead within seconds. But there were more, gunfire and shouts permeating the air.

Everything was chaotic, the shouts continuing. One of the enemy vehicles crashed into a pole and I raced toward them, throwing open the door and killing the occupants.

But I heard another shout, one I’d consider mournful. I turned, racing back to the parking lot just as a Dion caught a bullet. I reacted, catching and dragging him down to the pavement, doing my best to shield his body as I fired off on all sides.

Gio and Bronco had taken over, working with Lupini’s men. Additional gunshots made way for an eerie quiet.

Gasping, I looked over at Don Santorelli. His shirt was soaked with blood. When I glanced down at Dion, I threw back my head and roared.

* * *

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