Page 27 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
“No. They still haven’t announced his successor.”
“His son’s in a bad way. Broke both arms, his collarbone and three ribs in the collision.”
I interlock my fingers and stretch, the knucklescracking in unison. “Yeah, well, Frankie wasn’t destined to take over from his father. He’s always been too weak.”
“Well, whoever it is won’t stand a chance against Cristiano. Not in New York. We own it now.”
“Almost.” I cock a brow and glance sideways at him. “They still have influence upstate.”
“True, but minimal,” he scoffs. “You know, I can’t believe I’m saying this but Cristiano is as much a mob man as my uncle was. He took north Jersey like it was already his.”
A small smile crosses my lips. “The shooting on the day of Gio’s funeral provided more than enough motivation.”
Especially now we know Trilby Castellano was in the car that was attacked, and Cristiano will blithely torture any man who threatens her existence.
“If you asked me, he relished it.” I hear Cristiano talking on the phone just inside the house. I stand and brush my palms down my thighs. “And he deserved to.”
Nicolò’s chin tips upward as his gaze follows me. “What’s the plan now? We just wait it out, see if they retaliate? Or do we hit them again?”
“Cristiano will have the final say, but it’s my counsel that we step back, at least for a few days and watch for their next move. They might panic; they might retreat. They might surprise us.”
“Surprise us, how?”
“I don’t know, but Fury isn’t stupid. He’ll have something up his sleeve.”
I leave Nicolò mulling that over while I follow the sound of Cristiano’s voice. There are still drops of water on the steps from where Tess walked barefoot into the house. An image flashes in front of me of her slim, strong limbs wrapped in a white cotton towel, but I shove my hands in my pockets and blink it away.
Cristiano is leaning back against the kitchen island, an espresso in one hand and a phone in the other. He nods when I enter. There’s no sign of anyone else. Not Trilby, nor her sister. I turn on the faucet and pour a glass of water then wait for him to finish the call.
“Nothing,” he replies to my unvoiced question, as he puts his cell on the island. “We do nothing now. We lie low.”
“That was going to be my recommendation. What do they know about the hit?”
Cristiano takes a slow sip of espresso. “Well, they know it was us. Or, more specifically, they know it wasyou.”
I shrug. “I wasn’t the only one there. I had three capos and a couple of soldiers.”
“But you were front and center Benny. You might not have pulled the trigger but you were the one who snapped their necks.”
“They were already half dead. I was putting them out of their misery,” I reply. “Plus, if you’d seen their internet browsing histories, you’d have snapped their necks too.”
Cristiano shakes his head and tries to bite down on a smile. “I know you love being…hands on. And you’regood at it. But you’re no use to me dead. I don’t need you at the front; I need you to be my advisor—myconsigliere.”
“I can’t advise you properly unless I’m in the thick of it,” I reply. Being on the frontline of our operation gives me oxygen. Gianni never had a problem with me getting my hands dirty.
Cristiano pushes himself off the island. “Then you’re just going to have to practice.”
His answer annoys me. Like I need to practice doing theadmin. I want to be a mob man, not a pen pusher. My tone turns exasperated. “And what will I do for pleasure?”
His lips turn up into a wicked grin. “You’ll just have to get yourself a woman.”
“I already have plenty,” I say with a huff. “And they’re fucking boring.”
“Then you haven’t found the right one.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes, which only creates space for the vision of Contessa in a towel to flash across my lidsagain.
And she’s not that woman.
