“It’s a setup, then?”
“Maybe. Probably.” Anderson went to stand in front of the window, looking out. “If the Valentis are behind all the drugs and the child kidnappings, why did it only start to get out of hand two years ago when they’ve been around for fifty years?”
“Who knows? Maybe the fuckers got greedy.”
He snorted again. God, I hated when he did that. It was only cool when I did it.
“Lorenzo Valenti is guilty of a lot of things, Stone. But kidnapping children isn’t one of them, and neither is selling drugs.”
He sounded so damn sure about this fact that it made me wonder exactly what had him so completely convinced about Valenti’s innocence. Sure, it was a bit suspicious that Gio gave up the name so easily, but then again, Gio wasn’t exactly what you’d call street smart.
I got up from the couch and stood next to him. “Do I want to know why you sound so fucking sure about all this?”
He placed his hand on my shoulder, and all I could think waswhy the fuck is this man touching me?
“I’ve been around a long time, rookie. Trust me when I say it’s the Mancusos you want.”
I peered down at his hand on my shoulder before looking up at him. “This still doesn’t mean we’re partners.”
“Of course, it doesn’t.” He removed his hand and walked to the front door. He paused as he reached for the doorknob. “Besides, your ass is suspended, remember?”
Ah, fuck. I forgot about that for at least ten minutes, and it felt so good until this asshole ruined it.
And then it occurred to me. “If you know I’m suspended, why did you just tell me all this?”
He was already halfway out the door when he stopped and glanced my way. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just did my duty as your partner to check how you were doing after getting suspended.” A wicked half grin curved up the corner of his mouth, and then he closed the door behind him.
This time it was my turn to snort. What an asshole—albeit an asshole who just scored some major points.
It pained me to admit it, but maybe he was right. Maybe I’d been concentrating too much on the wrong damn family. The heat had been on the Valentis for so long, the Mancusos’ movements went almost completely unnoticed.
Clearly, I needed to spend some time investigating the Mancusos to see what I could come up with. I still wasn’t convinced I was wrong about the Valentis being behind this town turning into a criminal dumpster. But if—and that was a big fuckingif—Anderson was right, I needed to start paying closer attention to the otherItalian family in town.
I grabbed my phone, scrolling to Karina’s Facebook page before I sat on the couch, wondering why I felt the need to disinfect the La-Z-Boy before I made use of it again.
There was still no status update on her page, and I was pretty sure since she now knew I was watching her profile, she wouldn’t be updating it that often anymore. I was surprised she hadn’t deleted and blocked my ass yet.
Staring at her profile picture, her smile almost reaching her chocolaty eyes, I couldn’t help but think she didn’t quite fit into the Valenti equation. Sure, she was feisty with a healthy dose of that sexy as hell Italian attitude, but part of a criminal family? I didn’t think so.
It was easy to see her older brother Antonio was well on his way following in their father’s footsteps. Dante had that whole Italian bad-ass nailed to perfection. But her? I didn’t know. One thing I did know was Karina Valenti was definitely a puzzle I wanted to solve, and I knew just where to start.
Chapter 6
KARINA
I stared at my phone and wondered if I should update my status, let the world know I was on my way to Dante’s birthday party at Vertigo nightclub. But that would be stupid. Plus, it would be a recipe for a stampede.
If I were honest with myself, I’d admit the only reason I would want to do something so stupid would be to see ifhewas still keeping an eye on my profile. And would he react? Or would he suspect it was just another ruse, a ploy at creating a little entertainment for my followers?
God, I felt so pathetic even considering it. In any case, I wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the little freedom my brothers and I were given.
Usually, our dad didn’t condone us hanging out at bars or nightclubs, and we hardly ever did. Being Italian came with a lot of rules and family morals everyone needed to adhere to. From an early age, we were taught to wear sophistication as a second skin and never to bring shame upon the family. We were classy, and our actions needed to mirror that.
A few years back, Dante went through a real tough time. Acted out, got drunk, started fights, and went around being a total asshole. One night he was out partying at a nightclub, and a fight broke out because my dear brother decided to pursue a woman who clearly already had a man at her side. Overall, he was acting like a complete jerk, and the media was having a field day with it.
The rest of the family didn’t understand, but I did. I understood. Being a woman and dealing with heartbreak was tough enough. But being an independent, strong man with an ego bigger than the Pacific, dealing with a broken heart was ten times worse. It was eating away at him. Partying and drinking was the only way he knew how to deal with it.
But Dante was never one to follow rules, always wanting to see how far he could bend them before they finally broke. But that day at the bar, Dante bent the rules too damn far. I’d never seen my dad as mad as I did that day. He slapped Dante across the face so hard my brother had a handprint on his cheek for a week. The Italian that came out of my dad’s mouth was something I’d never dream of repeating.