“Wow, you are an idiot. On the front door? I can’t. Luigi, I need you to drive me over to Nero’s,” she calls out, shaking her head at me, but I’m not sure what I did wrong.
“I’m coming with you,” my zia says. She turns to me when she realizes I have no clue how I fucked it up this time. “You left the note on the front door like you expect her to run away.” Damn it. She has a point. If I’d left it in on her bedroom door that would have been smarter.
“Do you want me to take Luca with me?” Aria asks Dom.
“No, my queen.” He loves having his boy with us. Twenty minutes later the women leave the house, and Dom and I head into this office to work on a game plan.
My heart thumps in my chest as we wait for the response from Paul Gordon. He's agreed to meet us at Domani's home, believing his men will protect him, but his men are pussies and will fall if they challenge us.
Inviting him here on the pretense of business was a mastery of skill, but the talk of massive profits drives motivation for most. He's a typical scumbag that needs to meet his maker, but I have to bide my time. We need more than his life at our feet. I want to find the players and crush them. When I think about my Mariana being a potential victim of his, my blood goes cold.
He preys on innocent women, making my stomach turn with the violent urge to rip his heart straight out of his chest.
“Calm down. We need him to come here on the pretense of business. If he sees you looking like a damn raving lunatic, it won’t work out well.”
“Sorry. The thought of him being even remotely close to Mariana pisses me off. I’m glad she’s at the house instead of here.”
“Don’t worry. If everything goes according to plan, he’ll never be a danger to her again,” Dom says. Damn right. One way or another I’m getting my hands on Gordon and he’ll be dead. Nico got that information to me right on damn time. I owe him and Bingo a lot because I wouldn’t have gotten to Mariana in time.
“Do you think he’s arrogant enough to come down here?” I ask, knowing I’ll go looking for him either way, but the prick is bold as hell.
“Yes. Men like Gordon think they’re untouchable. Plus, he’s under the assumption that we’re a small-time operation. It’s good that I’ve kept an extremely low profile.” We run so much, but it’s all under wraps to keep the Feds and other officials off our backs.
“Well, we gave him the impression that the Bianchi family is crumbling under the weight of the new law enforcement in the area.”
“Yes. He doesn’t grasp the danger he’s in.”
“Nope.”
A call comes to Domani’s home number, which is a secure line. “Bianchi.”
“This is Paul Gordon. My friend asked that we meet. I don’t have much time today, but I will be near the Northside in an hour.”
“That will do for us. I’m at home dealing with some personal matters, so I’ll be here.”
“Yeah, I heard you were married, but I have girls if you’re looking for something sweet on the side.”
“Maybe. Married life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” A look of pure rage crosses his face as he tells that whopper. My cousin adores his wife. Fuck, Domani might kill him for even suggesting that.
“I’ve got the perfect lineup,” Gordon says with a chuckle.
“We can talk when you get here. I worry about anyone listening in.”
“Understood. Say no more.”
Domani ends the call. “That was disgusting.”
“Yeah, he’s a natural-born pig. The thought of someone other than my Aria is revolting. Still, I have to play the game until I have him in my clutches.”
“Then I get to play.”
“That you do. Now, let us discuss other matters. I’ve got the distillery numbers to speak to you about.” While we wait for the sick fuck, we handle our business; however, destroying Gordon plays in my head the entire time.
Chapter Eight
Mariana
The man is an idiot. I wake up to hear him talking to a man. I keep out of sight and listen as best as I can. The man cheers him on for abducting me. I shake my head, but I suppose it’s natural in the criminal world. When he leaves, he looks up at the stairs several times, appearing to be confused. Finally he writes a note and attaches it to the front door.
As soon as he’s gone, I snatch it off the door.
I have to go to Domani’s and didn’t want to wake you. Please don’t leave. — Nero
I don’t know whether to laugh or swoon. The man is trying. Instead of thinking of leaving, I head into the kitchen. If he has a sweet tooth, I think I’ll bake a cake or some dessert. I head into the massive pantry and look for some ingredients. This guy does have a sweet tooth. I dig through the pantry, and there are so many packaged treats: everything Hostess makes along with Reese’s, and all kinds of chocolate. He needs something homemade for dessert. I pull out the ingredients to make him a pie.