Page 50 of Cruel Saints

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“Yes, Sir.” Then he speaks into the microphone, “We’re on the move.”

I take my phone from my pocket and dial Alexei’s number. He and Demitri are chasing a lead, and I want to touch base with them.

Alexei answers, and I hear a grunt, then he says, “Koslov.”

“Please tell me you didn’t answer the phone while fucking,” I chuckle.

“Not the kind of fucking you’re thinking of,” he replies. “I’m getting some information from someone.”

Poor bastard.

“I take it you got a lead?” I ask as Franco steers the G Wagon out of the driveway.

“Fucking mercenaries. That’s who she has working for her.”

My eyebrows raise. “And?”

“You interrupted me. Let me finish, and I’ll let you know if he shared anything of value.”

“Okay.”

We end the call, and tucking the phone back in the breast pocket of my jacket, I relax against the seat. Lifting my hand, I rub over the scruff on my jaw while I once again try to figure out who’s behind the attack.

Mercenaries. Freelance guns for hire who don’t live by any code.

Fuck, it can be anyone.

When we pull up to the harbor, there’s a police car. I let out a sigh. “Merda.” My motor brigade comes to a stop, and I shove the door open. Getting out, I walk to the police car, and when I reach the driver's side, I let out a sigh of relief when I see it’s one of the detectives on our payroll.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He climbs out and gestures with a thumb at my shipment of incendiary grenades. “A call came in about suspicious activity.”

Our eyes lock as I ask, “And? Did you find anything?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Good.”

I watch as he climbs back into the car, and then he says, “Oh, by the way, congrats on the engagement.”

He must’ve read it in the newspapers. The Cotroni name is becoming a trending topic, and I don’t like it one bit.

I nod and watch as he starts the engine and drives off.

“Everything okay, boss?” Matteo asks.

“Yes. Let’s check the shipment and get out of here before a cop who's not on our payroll comes sniffing.”

We get to work, and after I’ve made sure everything is there, the men start packing it into the aircon units we always use.

The whole process takes an hour, and then we can finally get out of here.

“Matteo,” I call after him before he can climb into the truck, “Make sure that shipment reaches its destination.”

“Yes, boss.”

I get into the G Wagon, and then Franco takes us home. As we turn into the driveway, my phone begins to ring. Seeing Alexei’s name, I grin. “I take it you’re done,” I answer the call.

“I am,” he chuckles. “Now I need a drink.”

“And?”

“I only found out she’s Italian. The usual shit. Dark hair, dark eyes. Goes by the name of Umbria.”

“Fuck, that doesn’t help,” I mutter.

“I’ll keep digging,” Alexei says.

“Thanks.”

Franco brings the car to a stop as we end the call, and getting out, I let out a sigh. It really feels like I’m chasing a ghost.

When I walk back into the house, I find Elena and Aunt Ursula in the kitchen.

“Whatever you’re making smells nice,” I say as I walk to the side table to pour myself a bourbon.

“I’m showing Elena how to make beef and mortadella meatballs in tomato sauce,” Aunt Ursula answers.

Picking up my drink, I unbutton my jacket and take a seat on the couch. I savor the bourbon while I watch the women cook, and it instantly makes me relax.

Elena glances up every now and then, and around the fifth time our eyes connect, she begins to smile.

Slowly the corner of my mouth lifts, and for the next thirty minutes, I keep staring at her, drawing smiles from her.

By the time dinner is ready, I’m getting hot. Rising to my feet, I take off my jacket and drape it over the back of the couch. I unbutton my cuffs, and while I roll up my sleeves, I walk to the dining room.

I stop by the head of the table, and the sight of my father’s empty chair is a punch to the gut.

Aunt Ursula pats my back. “Sit down. He would’ve wanted it like that.”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly as I pull the chair out.

When I take a seat, Elena places a plate in front of me. “Good luck. It’s my first time cooking.”

I let out a chuckle. “As long as you didn’t add poison.”

“Damn, I should’ve thought of that,” she teases me back as she sits down to my right.

When we’re all ready, I hold my hands out to Elena and my aunt, and then I say a quick prayer of thanks.

Picking up my utensils, I cut through a meatball, and when I take the bite, Elena watches me closely.


Tags: Michelle Heard Romance