Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I didn’t let my jealousy get to me. I just had to accept the fact that I had a super-hot hunk for a man.
Dark sunglasses covered his eyes, but I could somehow tell when his stare was on me. He had a little smile on his lips whenever he did it.
“Leo called me yesterday.” I’d forgotten about it until now, when my mind wandered to the vineyard and what could be happening there. Did Warren change everything? Was Elio doing okay? Salvatore and Andre? Did they give my brother the dirtiest looks every time they saw him?
“What did he say?” There was a shift in his reaction. “He didn’t get a chance to say anything because I hung up on him.”
He sat at the round table, the tiles painted Sicilian blue with yellow lemons, attached to a base made out of volcanic rock from Mount Etna. His elbow was propped on the table, and his closed knuckles were pressed against his cheek, his dark ink still contrasting against his tanned skin.
“He started to say how sorry he was, but then I told him to never call me again. I hung up after that.”
He continued to stare at me.
“I was worried about you at that moment, so I really didn’t have the patience for him at the time.”
“And if he called at a better time?”
“Probably wouldn’t have changed anything.”
He gave a slight nod.
“I never want to see or hear from him ever again. Except when I shoot him in the head.” Dad was dead because of his foolishness, so it only seemed fair.
Wolfe’s phone was sitting on the brightly colored table in front of him, and he grabbed it like it’d vibrated with a message. His chin was tilted down as he read it. His expression didn’t change that much, but his whole aura shifted as if he’d read something he didn’t like. Someone else wouldn’t have noticed the change, but I was so in tune with his body now that I picked up on even the slightest nuances of his behavior.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Leo.”
“Oh. Speak of the devil.”
“He said Warren is meeting with Icarus.”
I didn’t know what that meant exactly, but judging by Wolfe’s tone, it sounded bad.
“It sounds like they want to form an alliance to overthrow Cosa Nostra.” He grabbed the phone and reread what Leo had sent. “In exchange, Warren would be a lieutenant in Sicily, overseeing all the powder on behalf of the Skull King.”
“Why would he want that when he already has the arms business?”
“I don’t know,” Wolfe said. “There’s a lot more money in powder for all of Sicily. Maybe he thinks he can negotiate a large cut while Icarus exploits other territories. Or maybe once the Skull King turns his back, he’ll seize everything for himself.”
“What are you going to do?”
“We’re going to head to headquarters and share this with Don Russo.”
“We?”
“I don’t want you here by yourself anymore.”
It was the first time he’d ever said something like that, and it made me wonder what had changed. “Do you think Icarus would come for me?”
His eyes were invisible behind the glasses, so I didn’t know the exact reaction he had to me. But he gave a long pause that made me uncomfortable. “We operate by a code. We don’t involve families in our battles and disagreements. But not everyone shares that same sense of honor.”
“And Icarus is one of them.”
“Yes.”
“Because he killed Ciro’s family?”
“Yes.”
I continued to study him to see if he would elaborate, but it didn’t seem like anything else would be forthcoming. “Did—did he do something else to them?”
He rose from the chair and left his coffee behind. “Let’s get ready. I need to speak to Don Russo.”
And I knew the conversation was over.
Like the last time we came here, Wolfe pulled past the gates and parked directly in the courtyard, where there were only a handful of cars. Cosa Nostra was a huge organization and all their cars couldn’t fit here without a three-story parking garage, so I wasn’t sure how everyone else got to work each day. Maybe they walked from their nearby homes or took a taxi. Or maybe they just parked on the street, and the police knew not to ticket their vehicles. But Wolfe parked right in the front, like he really was the man in charge…or almost in charge.
He took my hand and walked me through the double doors, exchanging pleasantries with the guys he met along the way. No one looked at me or acknowledged me in any way, almost as if they weren’t supposed to.
The inside of the villa felt more like a luxury hotel than the grounds of an organized crime headquarters. There were paintings on the walls and large sculptures in the hallways, more a museum than a fortress. The ceiling had crown molding, and despite being inhabited by a bunch of men all day long, it was spotless.