I left but listened to the sound of the running water, confused by my reaction to Nino’s body and his close proximity to me. He was still intimidating because of his strength, coldness, and reputation, but part of me had come to trust him a little. Nino had never done anything that had unsettled me.
When he emerged with only a towel wrapped around his waist, the overwhelming feeling of his mere presence resurfaced. “While you take a shower, I’ll head into the kitchen and see what I can do.”
I nodded silently and quickly disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
When I walked into the kitchen thirty minutes later, Nino was chopping onions and occasionally checking his iPad, which was propped up on the counter.
“You can cook?” I asked in surprise.
“I wouldn’t say I can cook. But it’s not very difficult as long as you follow instructions.”
I stopped beside him. A recipe for a cheese omelet was open on his iPad and hash browns were cooking in a pan on the stove. It smelled delicious and the onions were chopped with the precision of a chef. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Why don’t you make another pot of coffee. My brothers will probably be coming down soon like hungry wolves. The smell of bacon will draw them out of their hibernation.”
As if on cue, the door swung open and Savio stumbled in, yawning, wearing only sweatpants. He didn’t greet us. Instead he sank down in a chair, rubbing the back of his head. He glanced between Nino and me. “You two cook together now? Nino’s been the only cook around here.”
“I’m not a good cook,” I said.
The door opened again, and Remo entered, dressed in only briefs, revealing those steely muscles and unsettling scars. He had an erratic air about him, which set alarms off in my body. “I need to have a talk with you two,” he said to Nino and Savio, grinning in a way that didn’t bode well.
My interactions with the scary Capo had been limited to dinners and the occasional breakfast.
“About what?” Nino asked as he flipped the omelet.
“Nothing I’m supposed to discuss in front of Kiara if I remember your lecture,” he bit out, dark eyes settling on me.
“I can go,” I said.
Nino shook his head. “It can wait until after breakfast.”
Remo’s expression made it clear that he disagreed, but as usual, he held back when I was around. I quickly ate my omelet before I excused myself to tinker with a new song.
NINO
Remo was unusually excited, even by his standards. He leaned back in his chair, lips pulling wide in a very dangerous way.
Savio raised an eyebrow, but I shook my head. I didn’t know what was going on.
“Kiara is gone. You can talk now,” I said.
Remo glanced down at his phone. “Wait a sec.”
Sometimes my brother drove me up the wall with his antics. Steps sounded in the corridor. A man. Adamo was in school, but given Remo’s relaxed stance, it could only be Fabiano.
The blond man shoved open the door and strode in, looking less than pleased about being here. “I have a full schedule of kicking debtors’ asses, Remo.” He nodded at us before he took the chair beside Savio. “What’s going on?” His eyes moved over to me.
I shook my head. “Remo hasn’t revealed anything yet.”
“I changed my mind about our plans,” Remo said.
“Regarding the Outfit attack?” I asked. I’d spend days trying to gather useful information about Scuderi’s weekly habits, upcoming social events he might have to attend. Now Remo decided to change our plans.
Fabiano propped himself up on his forearms, frowning.
Remo nodded with a wide grin. “Dante is a man of logic, like you Nino. He will expect us to target him, or Scuderi, or one of the other men in his family. But I won’t do it because history has proven that there’s no better way to demoralize your enemy than to target the people they are supposed to protect.” He paused, excitement flashing across his face. “Their women.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Dante will have put every possible protection in place to make sure we don’t get anywhere near his wife or their children.”
He made a dismissive gesture and took out his phone then showed it to us.
On the screen was a young woman with blond hair and blue eyes, standing beside Dante Cavallaro. She had the same aloof expression on her face.
“Do you know her?”
“That’s Serafina,” Fabiano said slowly. “She’s Cavallaro’s niece.”
“You met her?”
“I used to play with her and her twin brother when we were little,” he said, his expression turning wary. “What’s your plan?”
Remo looked down on the screen with a twisted grin. “Her wedding to the Underboss of Indianapolis is scheduled for August first. I’ve always wanted to crash a wedding.”
Fabiano shook his head. “You want to waltz into Chicago and attack a wedding celebration? All the Captains and Underbosses will be there. Maybe we get in, but we won’t get out. Trust me on that, Remo.”