"Where are we going?" I asked, trying to keep my tone conversational, not let him hear the anxiety swirling in my belly.
"You and yours are so fucking curious what I am doing with my Family, well, you'll get to see firsthand," he told me, leading me through the door into what was, well, a warehouse.
Not just any warehouse, but a meat-packing warehouse.
We all knew that was part of Primo's operation. His legit business to hide his dirty money. His family were butchers all the way back from the Old Country. They liked to carry on the family tradition. So they had a meat processing plant for fancy organic, free-range meat as well as a few smaller butcher shops across the Bronx.
What no one could figure out, though, was how the Lombardis were moving the amount of heroin they were across the country.
Primo pulled me down a line of workers all dressed in full-coverage disposable suits from the tops of their heads to their feet with yellow blood-soaked aprons, booties, and masks.
While we walked around with no protection at all.
I tried not to be disgusted by that fact.
Nothing seemed out of the usual as we walked. I mean, I didn't know much about meat processing or packaging, but it all seemed above-board.
That is until we got to a line toward the back, separated from the rest of the tables.
A sign above that line of workers said "special orders."
They seemed to deal exclusively in whole turkeys, and if I hadn't been looking for something wrong, I might have missed the way the employees slipped baggies full of powder inside the turkeys before stuffing the giblets back in to hide them.
"You're shipping heroin across the country in turkey carcasses?" I asked, looking up with him, face twisted in disgust.
"It's only stupid if it doesn't work," Primo said, giving me a cocky raised brow look that said it absolutely worked.
"Why would you show me this?" I asked as he kept walking through the warehouse, slamming his hand into the metal bar on the exit door, forcing me to jog with him as we went down two flights of stairs.
"Why not?" he asked. "I would have shown you had you asked," he added. "Instead of sneaking around."
"So, you're holding me prisoner because I snooped?" I asked, yanking hard on our joined wrists. He could have easily kept moving forward, dragging me behind if he needed to, but he pulled to a stop, turning to face me as I caught my breath.
"No."
That was it.
No.
I had a lot of history with frustrating men, but I had a feeling Primo Esposito was going to top them all.
"Then why?"
"Maybe you should ask your father. And that brother of yours," he suggested.
"Well, I can't really do that," I said. "You know, since you're holding me captive, you jackass."
"That's a lot of fire, baby. You must be hot in bed," he declared.
"You'll never know," I said, chin angling up.
"Nope. Not if you like the straight up and down sort."
"Santi is part of the Family too," I said, annoyed that anyone would think differently just because he hadn't been in from the beginning.
"Yeah, only because his wife's lover put a bullet in her head."
"What?" I hissed, feeling like someone had kicked me in the gut.
"Didn't figure that out yet? Swear shit takes ten times longer with you all."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I pay a-fucking-ttention. Sure your pussy is great, baby, but I'm not getting distracted by it like Santiago is."
"You're a pig."
"Yep."
Ugh. I wanted to slap him. But I also had to respect his attitude, I guess.
"What is your endgame here?" I asked, raising our joined hands. "Starting a full-on war between the Families? Like shit hasn't been tense enough?"
"Worried about me, baby? Don't. I can handle myself if or when it comes to that. But this isn't about all the Families. This is about yours and mine. If Costa wants to stick his fucking nose in, I'm more than happy to deal with him too."
"My Family hasn't done anything," I said, shaking my head. "What?" I snapped when he let out a condescending chuckle.
"Oh, baby. Nothing," he said, reaching up with his free hand to rub at the scruff on his face. "You're just so fucking clueless still, huh?"
"Clueless about what?" I asked through gritted teeth. But was I mad at him, or the fact that he was likely right.
"What your Family does. Oh, they let you in on the little shit. The little shit that they think you can help them with. Jobs where they need someone to do something covert. You're the perfect woman for the job, aren't you? Since Morelli hasn't officially claimed you in any way. Bet he didn't even approve of you changing your last name to his."
He'd been angry actually.
It had been so long ago that I thought it was all behind us.