“Come in, boss.” Umberto opens the door, letting me inside the bodyguards’ apartment that is on the floor below the penthouse. Spotting the man I came to see, I walk toward the kitchen. “I’d like a word, John Angelo.”
“Sure thing, boss.” He sets his bowl of cereal down and follows me into the hallway that leads to the bedrooms where it’s quieter. “Is everything okay, sir?”
“I’m not sure.” I lean against the wall and eyeball him. “Where did Sloane go on Sunday night?”
If he’s surprised I’m asking, he doesn’t show it. “To a diner a couple blocks away. The one on the corner, opposite the phone store.”
I know the spot. It’s not a bad place. They do a mean apple pie, but it’s not somewhere I would ever take anyone on a date. “Did anything happen while she was there? She’s been a little off since then, and I’m worried about her.” I asked her once if she was okay, and she assured me she was, but I’m not buying it. She’s been a lot quieter this week, and when she’s not working, she holes up in her bedroom and rarely comes out. I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.
“Ah, I think I know why.” Compassion splays across his face. “I didn’t want to say anything because it wasn’t a security risk, but she mentioned she was meeting a guy, and he failed to show. She locked herself away in the bathroom for ages. Gave me a bullshit excuse when I checked on her, but when she came out, she was clearly upset.”
“That explains it.” She said it was casual and not serious with the guy, but it’s not unsurprising she was upset when it happened the day after I rejected her advances. Fuck. I hate that I contributed to her melancholy mood. What kind of asshole would stand a girl up like that? Especially one as amazing as Sloane. I will never understand some men. “Thanks.”
“No problem, boss. She’s a sweet kid.”
Internally, I wince. She might seem like a kid to an older man like John Angelo, but she’s all woman to me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since she hit on me. I know I did the right thing stopping it before we crossed a line, but I can’t help imagining what it might’ve been like to kiss her and touch her. To call her mine. I sure as shit would not be arranging a date in a diner and then standing her up. I’m tempted to make her tell me his name so I can acquaint him with my right hook, but her private life is none of my business, and I’ve really got to get a grip.
Perhaps Caleb is right, and I need to get laid. Maybe getting some woman underneath me will cure me of the illicit thoughts I can’t shake from my brain.
“We might have a problem,” Don Fiero Maltese says, claiming the attention of everyone around the table. It’s our weekly early-morning board meeting of The Commission at Commission HQ in the heart of Manhattan. So far, we’ve just been gossiping like women over coffee and pastries, but now shit’s about to get real.
“You have the table,” Don Massimo Greco says, nodding at his best friend to proceed.
For a long time, it was a given that Fiero would succeed Massimo as Commission president. But that ship has sailed. He muddied his reputation a couple of years ago when he kidnapped his now wife Valentina from her then husband. Dominic Ferraro was a total piece of shit who initially sold his wife to Fiero for a weekend. Fiero, the consummate bachelor of the mafioso, fell head over heels in love and refused to give her back. But that’s a story for another time. Suffice it to say, while protecting Valentina, he ruined any chance he might’ve had of becoming the next president. Not that he cares. He’s blissfully happy, all loved up with his wife and his one-year-old son Armani, and they’ve got another bambino on the way.
“One of my men came to me Monday with some alarming news.” Fiero scrubs a hand along his prickly jawline. “He received an anonymous request to meet. A legit threat was made against his family. He was told to tell no one and attend the meeting alone. He came straight to me, and I put protections in place to safeguard his family and encouraged him to go to the meeting under the guise of cooperation.”
“Let me guess.” Bennett Mazzone says. “The cartel is making their move.”
“Correct.” Fiero bobs his head.
“What did they want him to do?” Caleb asks.
“Obtain details of the Cali operation and shipping routes from Mexico to New York.”
Fiero and Massimo own a drug production plant in Cali and a shipping hub on Staten Island. They provide Cosa Nostra across the US with the high-class narcotics we supply to VIP clientele, mostly through our network of clubs. Joshua and Fiero manage the smaller street-supply operation in New York in conjunction with our Irish mafia partners, purely to ensure no one encroaches on our territory. It’s often more hassle than it’s worth, but it’s a necessary evil to protect our turf.
“It’s not surprising they’re trying to go after our drug trade,” Caleb says, leaning back in his chair.
“We hit their business, so they’ll try to retaliate by hitting ours,” Agessi agrees.
“I still think they’ll come after my family too. Cruz promised them something he didn’t deliver. They’re not going to let that go.” I smooth a hand down my tie as I level my colleagues with a neutral look.
“We don’t disagree with you, Cristian.” Massimo taps his pen on top of the table.
“That’s not how it seemed to me.” Caleb lifts a brow in Massimo’s direction.
My buddy is loyal. Joshua too. They were both as pissed off as me when the board voted against my proposal to create a team to track down women Cruz might have impregnated as part of his master breeding plan. Aside from the personal reasons for wanting to track these women down, I want to ensure they are all safe and well taken care of and that none of the children ever become targets because of the DNA they share with me and Elio.
Fiero, Joshua, Caleb, and I were the only ones who voted to find these women and children. The others all voted no, and we were outnumbered. They don’t consider it a priority. They think it’s safer for the kids to remain blissfully unaware of their heritage and by reaching out we’ll draw attention to them. While it’s a valid point, I think they’re making a mistake. These women and children are part of our famiglia. Not checking to ensure they are safe is failing to meet the most basic of obligations, in my opinion. The only ones who know I haven’t dropped it are Caleb, Joshua, and their wives. Gia is putting herself at considerable risk helping me on the down-low in her spare time, and I couldn’t love her any more for it.
“Allocating considerable resources to tracing women and children who may or may not exist is not viable. This intel proves it. The cartel is targeting us at grass-roots level, and we’ve all been put on warning now.” Massimo rakes his gaze around the table. “We cleaned house not too long ago, but that doesn’t mean some can’t be turned. Meet personally with your men. Make it a priority. Tell them we know this is happening and to come forward if they are approached. Reassure them we can protect their families and keep them safe.”
Heads bob around the table.
“This is a priority, and I want a weekly update from now on.” Massimo’s gaze swings to mine. “You should take additional precautions, Don DiPietro, though they may not attempt to infiltrate your famiglia as it’s the obvious ploy.”
“Unless it’s a double bluff,” Mantegna says.
“I think everyone should be extra vigilant,” Ben says. “While Fuentes and the other members of the Sinaloa leadership can’t step foot on US soil without risking arrest, there is nothing stopping their crew from going after us. We have to assume they’ve been biding their time and making plans they are now are putting in motion.”
“You should put additional security measures in place to protect your parents,” Massimo says, staring down the table at me.
“That’s already in place. I upgraded their security system and installed a panic room at the house two years ago. They have every tech available protecting them, and a team of guards watches the cameras and walks the perimeter twenty-four-seven. No one is getting near them.” I knew this time would come, like I knew our family would be the cartel’s first targets. I have been prepared for this moment since my brother died.
“Good.” Ben runs a hand through his hair. “It’s been a while since I talked to the old man. I’d hate anyone to target him because of that bastard Cruz.” My father represented our famiglia during the time Ben was Commission president. There’s a lot of mutual respect between them.
“I’ll see them on Saturday at Isa’s wedding. I’ll warn Papa to be on his guard.”
“What’s next with your soldato?” Joshua asks Fiero.
“He’s agreed to go along with the ruse. We’re going to feed them some fake information. Lure the guys into a trap, and then we can interrogate them.”
“It’s a good plan,” Massimo agrees. “I want to be apprised of every step going forward. Run everything by me first.”
“Consider it done,” Fiero says.
The meeting moves on to regular business, finally wrapping up ninety minutes later. Fiero approaches me as we’re all gathering our things, preparing to leave for our respective offices. “Valentina wants you to come to lunch on Sunday. She misses Elio,” he says.
“We’ll be there.”
He clamps his hand on my shoulder and lowers his voice. “You can tell me how the hunt for Cruz’s kids is going.”
“You’re not supposed to know about that,” I coolly reply, slinging my laptop bag over my shoulder.
“They’re your flesh and blood. I know you well enough to know you couldn’t rest easy without confirming they were okay, and I get it. Valentina needs that same peace of mind.”
“We shouldn’t discuss this here,” I say, noticing Massimo frowning as he glances at us from the top of the room.
“Agreed. We’ll talk Sunday. Come around three.” He steps back. “And bring the new nanny. Valentina wants to meet her.”
I’d throw something at his smirking face if I wasn’t in the conference room with President Greco’s suspicious scrutiny already directed at me.
