Page 21 of Tormented Diamonds
“Watch your tone, and what did I say about both hands on the wheel?” He scowls, but slams his hands back on. “I’m not an idiot. I know what to tell them and what to hold back. Besides, having a lawyer there would’ve impeded my counterattack.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“I simply introduced irrefutable proof that their missing marshal was a two-faced mafia associate who’d kidnapped and assaulted my wife. I may have also insinuated that if they continued to harass or prosecute my family, I’d ensure every news outlet from here to Siberia knew how the U.S. government sent its star witness into hiding with a dirty marshal on the Marchesi payroll.”
“So you threatened to blackmail the FBI?”
“I prefer to think of it as a negotiation of leverage.”
“It’s fucking blackmail, and it’s a felony.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Because extortion and murder are slaps on the wrists? Do you even know what you do for a living?”
“Doyou?” Anton snaps. “You’re not some nameless, flame-toting enforcer anymore, Gianni. You’re the don of New Jersey. You have eyes on your front and scopes on your back. Every move you make is going to be scrutinized. One small mistake is all it’ll taketo?—”
“Don’t you think I know all that?” I shout. “But we both heard Toscano’s threat against Becca. The minute the feds pull her in, it’s over. She’s dead. So, don’t fucking lecture me about the weight that’s on my back. I feel it every second of every day.”
He turns his attention back to the windshield. “You’re right. That’s a burden no man should carry.”
I don’t like this. I don’t like pain. I don’t like worry, and I sure as hell don’t like fear. I used to be perfectly one-dimensional, but thanks to Becca’s mental gymnastics, I’m taking hits from so many foreign emotions, I’m surprised I’m still conscious.
I can hear him grinding his teeth, so I slide a narrowed side-eye across the car. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He lets out a labored breath. “We may have run into another problem.”
Of course we have.
“Christ, what now?”
“Cathalina came over to talk to Becca after you left.”
“And you let her?” Son of a bitch, that woman is like a bad case of herpes. Just when you think you’ve gotten rid of her, she shows back up and shits on your whole day.
“She pulled her away from me. What was I supposed to do, clothesline them? I couldn’t follow without putting Becca on high alert.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“Nothing that’d warrant immediate intervention. In fact, she seemed rather nice, pleasant, even.”
“When was the last time you encountered someone in the mafia who was niceorpleasant.”
He tips his chin. “Fair point. So, if it wasn’t small talk or curiosity leading the charge, what was her angle? You and Becca are already married. Instigating a cat fight wouldn’t havechanged that.”
No, but Cathalina showing up to places unannounced and uninvited is becoming a bad habit. First, my wedding night, and now my father’s service. Her appearances are always “nice and pleasant,” containing questions just vague enough to skirt the lines of suspicion.
Almost as if she’s being coached.
“Intel?” I say as Anton nearly blows the transmission shifting into third gear. “Maybe Toscano and Carmine are using her to spy on me.”
“Unknowingly?”
“If I had to say so, yes, but I give no one the full benefit of the doubt.” I blow out a hard breath as he sends the back wheels skidding into a hard turn. “Are you sure you know how to drive a stick?”
“Stop side seat driving. You’re going to cause an accident.”
“I’mgoing to…?” I grit my teeth around the rest of the words. Punching him at eighty-five miles per hour isn’t worth the insurance claim. “Forget it. Just get in touch with Owen. Have him run surveillance on Toscano and both Damianos.” I catch Anton’s pinched expression out of the corner of my eye. “What’s that look for?”
“Are you sure we can trust him?”
