Page 18 of Bruno
“What the fuck?” I can’t believe she’d even ask that. “Of course, I’ll be back. Made the mistake of not returning once, it won’t do it again.” She bites her lips again and looks down. And my heart nosedives again. My voice is a husky whisper that I barely recognize. “What will it take to make you believe me?”
“Time,” she answers simply.
“Great.” The motherfucker that hates me. But I’ll make it work. I’ll become the man she needs—the one who’s there, not just when danger looms, but every single day.
The hallway is quiet. But I can’t just head out without saying goodbye. “Hey, Chris,” I call out, knocking on his door. He doesn’t answer, but I turn the knob anyway. Startling him into looking up from his phone. I give him the news, but he only looks back at whatever I interrupted. “Dude, I don’t care. You’ve been gone for fifteen years. Why would I care if you’re here or not now?”
Balling my fist, I fight the urge to argue with him. Instead, I focus on what’s important. “Just watch out for your mother. Can I count on you for that?”
“Is there gonna be trouble?” He asks, suspicion in his eyes.
“Hopefully not, but shit can go sideways fast. Always be prepared.” Chris nods, seeming to accept my answer. I grab him before he can resist, pulling him into a rough hug. “Take care of yourself too. I’ve gotten kinda used to your sour face. Hate to miss it.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He pushes me away, slapping his headphones on and dismissing me entirely. But I felt it – the quick squeeze before he let go.
I drag my feet and heavy heart and head for the front door; Attia walks me out. She’s quiet, her usual fire dulled. I pull her close, planting a lingering kiss on her forehead. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon,” I promise, although I know better.
“Be careful,” she responds, but her eyes are so liquid I nearly say fuck everything else and stay. But I can’t. I took the job of the Don, and I’ll take the responsibility that goes with it. So, I nod and step into the SUV, leaving behind the woman I love and the child Ilike—again.
The clouds that have been threatening us all day break into rain, like the sky knows something’s about to go down. But I’m ready. For her, for Chris, and for my family – I’ll face this shit head-on.
Chapter 8
Itake a deep breath as Marco and I approach the nondescript steel door at the back of the underground parking garage. To the casual observer, it would appear to be nothing more than a utility closet. But I know better. This is the entrance to our “vault” - a sprawling labyrinth of secure rooms buried deep beneath one of Chicago’s towering skyscrapers.
Marco uses his encrypted key card, allowing the retinal scanner to verify his identity and I do the same. With a heavy clunk, the magnetic locks disengage, granting us entry. When we step inside, I’m enveloped in that familiar sense of cold sterility. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead buzz with a faint electric hum, casting acetic patterns along the bare concrete walls. We make our way down a zigzagging corridor with rounded corners designed to prevent any potential lines of sight from the entrance. Finally, we arrive at another reinforced door. I nod tersely at a guard, signaling him to remain outside while Marco and I enter. The door seals shut behind us with an ominous thud, and we face Gio Verrazano.
The young heir sits rigidly upright in an austere metal chair, hands folded on the metal desk. There is no luxury in this room. This room is for business, not for making friends. Despite his precarious situation, arrogant defiance clings to him like a second skin. His dark eyes glint dangerously as they meet mine, waiting for me to make the first move.
Gio Verrazano is a dangerous man. A five-second assessment tells me everything I need to know. He appears calm, but he is the very definition of still waters run deep. Something is burning in his gut. A fire he’s ready to put out with his uncle’s blood. It’s a bold move reaching out to us. He has no way of knowing if we’ve already turned him over to his family. His life is on the line, but he’s not even sweating. He came alone, not risking anyone other than himself. It’s a boss move. It shows he’s a general, but not from the rear. This is a man who will always stand on the front lines.
He stands respectfully, and I nod him back to his seat. I’m not here for formalities. I want this shit ended, and I’m willing to listen to his plan. He has five minutes.
Gio leans forward, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that could melt steel. “I’ll cut right to the chase, Bruno. My uncle, the Don, has become a liability. His reckless decisions are putting our family at risk, making enemies faster than we can handle.”
I raise an eyebrow, keeping my expression neutral. “And why should I trust you? How do I know this isn’t some elaborate trap?”
A bitter laugh escapes Gio’s lips. “You think I want to be here, begging for help from the Falcones? I’m doing this because I have no choice. The Don…he had my woman killed. Said she wasn’t good enough for me, for the family.”
The raw pain in his voice catches me off guard. I glance at Marco, who gives me a subtle nod. He believes him. “I’m listening,” I say, leaning back in my chair.
Gio takes a deep breath, composing himself. “I want assurances. If the Don is taken out, your family calls off the war. We enter a treaty, end this bloodshed before it consumes us all.”
I consider his words, weighing the risks and potential benefits. Ending this war would save lives on both sides, and a treaty with the Verrazanos could strengthen our position in the long run. But trust is a rare commodity in this business.
“A treaty sounds nice in theory,” I muse, drumming my fingers on the metal table. “But you know as well as I do, the most binding treaties are sealed with marriage. Gives both sides a vested interest in keeping the peace.”
Gio’s eyes narrow slightly. “Marriage? I’m not exactly in a position to be playing matchmaker right now, Bruno.”
I lean forward, holding his gaze. “But if it came to that, would you be open to the idea? A union between our families could go a long way in ensuring a lasting alliance.”
There’s a long pause as Gio considers the implications. I can practically see the gears turning behind his eyes, weighing his options. Finally, he gives a curt nod. “If that’s what it takes, then yes. I’ll do what’s necessary for the good of my family.”
We shake on it, a tentative agreement forged in the crucible of shared enemies and uncertain futures.
As Gio turns to leave, he hesitates at the door. “One more thing, Bruno. When the Don goes down, he’ll still have some loyal men who might strike out in vengeance. Both our families could be in danger until they’re dealt with.”
I nod grimly, appreciating the warning. “Understood. We’ll be prepared for any fallout.”
