Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, I mumbled, “Can’t wait for tonight.”
“Be careful,” Aria whispered.
I pulled away, then turned and left, feeling slightly stunned by her words. Nobody had ever said something like that to me.Matteo waited for me in the underground garage and we took my car to Ferris’ place. He was a sleek business type who owned close to thirty restaurants in New York and New Jersey. The Russians were trying to convince him to switch to them. That wasn’t going to happen.
“You look better than I thought after last night,” Matteo commented, scanning me.
“I’ve had worse.”
“Did Aria help you recover?” His lips pulled into a suggestive grin.
“Do you have the video of me torturing that Bratva bastard on your phone?”
“So no sharing naughty details?”
“Matteo,” I growled.
“Of course. It was one of your brightest hours, torture-wise. All that pent-up sexual frustration is good for something, after all. If I wasn’t already such a master torturer, I’d consider a few celibate days.”
I rolled my eyes.
When we pulled up in front of the restaurant in Brooklyn, I spotted Ferris pacing the boardwalk, speaking into his phone. We got out and headed for him. His agitated expression turned to anger when he saw us. A few of his employees were scrubbing the once white front, trying to get rid of the blood splatters. The pig heads were already gone. “I have a business to run and a reputation to uphold. This is unacceptable. If you don’t put a stop to it, I’ll have to consider a new cooperation.”
Cooperation? Did he think we were some kind of business venture he could decide to work with? I smiled coldly. “Why don’t we head inside to discuss this away from the public eye. You don’t want to attract the wrong attention,” I said in forced calm.
He scowled and moved into his restaurant, actually believing me. Fucking idiot.
Matteo and I stalked inside after him. The moment we reached his office, my pleasant mask slipped right off.
I grabbed him by the collar and raised him up, shoving him against the door.
“Have you lost your mind? I’ll call…”
“Call the police?” I finished in a deadly murmur. “We pay more than half of them. We pay the people who matter in this city, too. And let’s not forget the things you don’t want to get out in the open, Ferris. Like the pretty little bellboy you’re banging behind your wife’s back.”
I set him down slowly and waved Matteo forward.
“Now listen up, Ferris, and listen well, because I’ll say this exactly once. Our cooperation ends when we end it, not one fucking day sooner, and if it ends, trust me, you won’t like it.”
Matteo held his cell in front of Ferris’ face, then played the video of me slicing the Russian into tiny pieces. His screams blared from the speakers. Ferris squirmed, trying to get away. When I didn’t let him, he closed his eyes.
“Either you open your eyes or I’ll remove your fucking eyelids.”
His eyes flew open and his face began to perspire as he watched the video. He retched and I quickly shoved him away from me so he threw up on his shoes and not mine.
Matteo flashed me his shark grin and put his cell back into his back pocket.
“We’ll handle the Russians,” I said. “You only need to worry about paying us in time.”
Matteo clapped the man’s back hard. “Good talking to you.”
We left.
“Why do they always throw up?” Matteo asked as we headed for my car.
“I need to pay Cosima a visit,” I said.
Matteo sent me a curious look. I’d never talked to Cosimo by choice. “I have a feeling it’s got something to do with your Grace debacle.”
“It does. She told Aria where to find me.”
Matteo whistled. “Bitch.” He regarded closely me as we settled in the car. “But Aria forgave you?”
I frowned. I’d avoided talking to him about this topic. “She doesn’t really have a choice. This marriage binds us both.” It was the half-truth, but I wasn’t willing to discuss Aria in detail, especially not my feelings or hers. I wasn’t sure if she’d forgiven me, and she probably shouldn’t, but Aria wanted this marriage to work, and I was grateful for it.
We pulled up in front of Cosima and Giovanni’s house. She’d been married to him for four years now. His father was one of our Captains.
“Want me to come along?”
I shook my head. “I’ll handle this alone. It won’t take long.”
I walked up to the townhouse and rang the bell. A maid opened the door, her eyes widening in alarm upon spotting me. “The master isn’t home.”
“I need to see his wife,” I said, stepping forward, forcing her to open the door wider and allowing me entry.
“Who is it? I told you not to let anyone in, you useless cow!” Cosima screamed, appearing in the hallway. She froze. She was still in her bathrobe. “Giovanni is not here,” she said quickly.