Page 202 of Salvatore

I scowl. “So you’re just going to walk away?”

“That’s up to you. I can stay on as your consigliere—and would honor the position and the ability to continue guiding you—or you can send me on my way. You get to choose the men who stand by your side.”

Ivy stares up at me. Questioning. Uncertain.

“Of course I want you as my consigliere.” I scrub a hand over my mouth, still fucking blindsided. “I can’t do this without you.”

Pride, resolve, and a whole heap of relief is reflected in his stare. “Good.” He indicates the chair beside Ivy’s. “Then sit, and we will discuss your plans for the cartel.”

I pause, unsure how this transition is meant to work as I claim the seat. “It’s more of a goal than a plan. I just want them all dead.”

He chuckles. “I assumed as much. But I fear you may already be a step behind. There’s word Gabriel has sent away the women in his family and requested some of his New York counterparts to come to town.”

“How many men has he called in?” I ask as a cell vibrates somewhere close by, the sound ignored.

“The request was large but the result is yet to be seen. My relationship with the cartel in New York is civil and has been for some time. They may not send anyone.”

The cell vibrates again… and again.

“I’m sorry,” Ivy murmurs, pulling her phone from a pocket on her sundress. “I’ll turn it to silent.”

She navigates through the screen as I scrub a hand over my mouth, contemplating.

My brothers need to get their asses here. I want their input. Bishop’s expertise, too.

“Once Remy and Matthew arrive we’ll figure this out together. This isn’t something I want to go into lightly.”

Lorenzo inclines his head. “That would be the right move.”

“Salvatore…” There’s concern in Ivy’s voice as she meets my gaze, her cell still in hand. “I think you need to call your brother.”

“Why? What is it?” The hairs on the back of my neck rise as she holds out her phone, the message on screen drawing my attention.

Liv

Are you still with Lorenzo?

The funeral home was just firebombed. I’m freaking out.

We’re on our way to you, but I’m fucking scared.

“Is there a problem?” Lorenzo’s leather chair creaks as he sits forward, placing his elbows on his desk.

I hand Ivy’s phone back and push to my feet. “The cartel has targeted the funeral home.”

His gaze hardens. “Casualties?”

“I don’t know.” I start pacing, the silence thick with tension until another vibration hums through the room, this one coming from Lorenzo’s desk.

He leans back, opens his top drawer, and answers the call.

“Bishop?” His brow furrows while he listens for a beat. “Where are you? Were Abri and Tilly hurt?”

Fuck.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, inspiring dread.

I pull it out, Matthew’s name flashing across the screen.

---