Page 87 of The One
“Mercenaries?” I ask, swirling the whiskey as I press the cool glass against my temple.
“Seems likely.”
“Uberto ran their images through facial recognition?”
“Yep. Came up empty. Whoever sent them covered their tracks meticulously. They don’t want to be found.”
“An invisible enemy,” I mutter. “Just what we need on top of everything else. At least before, we knew who we were fighting.”
Rom nods, his expression dark. “This could be the mastermind behind it all. Someone pulling the strings and shifting your enemies like chess pieces.”
A chill runs down my spine. “Even Molinaro? Seems unlikely, given the generation-long feud with them.”
“Man, I don’t know. My gut tells me there’s more to come.”
I rub my neck, exhaustion settling in. “Good thing, then, that Tiero and I play a damn good game of chess.”
My phone rings, and I pull it from my pocket, lowering the volume to avoid waking Mari.
After my briefing with Rom, he went to crash in the room he keeps here, and I came to check in on Antonio’s daughter.
She hadn’t moved and was still sound asleep, but still worried she might wake from a nightmare, I slipped under the covers on the other side of the bed to keep an eye on her.
I must have drifted off, because now I’m spooned close behind her, her soft, warm body pressed against me.
Before I can think too much about how right it feels, the phone buzzes insistently in my hand again. I swallow the urge to groan and carefully ease out of bed, pulling the blanket back over her.
Sunlight streams through the gap in the curtains, and I glance at the clock on the bedside table. Six o’clock. Great, I got all of three hours of sleep.
With one last look at my sleeping beauty, I leave the room.
“Tiero,” I answer my brother’s incessant call, my voice still rough as I reach my suite on the third floor.
“What the hell were you thinking going out alone? Do you have a death wish?” Tiero’s voice booms through the speaker.
“I was just picking up Mari. I didn’t need an entourage.”
“Santino said you were gone for hours.”
God, can’t I do anything without a full report on my every move? Some privacy would be nice.
“Well, my plans changed,” I say, keeping my tone steady.
“Then you should have called for backup,” he shoots back. “We could’ve avoided this entire mess. I’ve been on the phone with the police commissioner since five a.m. cleaning up the fallout.”
Maybe I didn’t want other people watching us.
“Mateo,” Tiero’s tone softens, “you’re the only family I have left. With Ella gone, I can’t lose you too.”
A lump forms in my throat, and suddenly I’m that six-year-old boy again, looking up to him with nothing but admiration and love.
“I’m sorry, Tiero. I didn’t mean to worry you. Sometimes I just need a breather. I get tired of having people around me all the time.”
“I get that. Trust me, I feel the same. But the need for personal time has to wait until things settle down.”
I let out a sigh, resigned. Of course, he’s right. If the roles were reversed, I’d be saying exactly the same thing to him.
“Why were you picking up Mariella in the first place? We’ve got people for that.”
