Mia rested one of the crutches against the table then leaned into me, and I inhaled the scent of cinnamon-spiced vanilla from her hair as I wrapped my arm around her waist and drew her close. It was chilly indoors, as if the bitter January wind had found a way inside. No windows were on the first floor. The upper level that was mostly open made it harder to keep the heat on the first floor—but it wasn’t meant to be comfortable.
At times, we took enemies there to torture information from them. Meetings held on the premises weren’t always friendly. The walls were steel, and there was a large table where we could gather for the commission if everyone chose to sit.
Four days had passed since we’d been in New York, and she’d shared the news from her mom’s note with the Verretti brothers. They were due to arrive with the Tucci and Amato bosses. Before they did, we would have a few minutes alone with the Sicilians we were descended from. The New York Mafia didn’t have the same ties. They originated in Italy but hadn’t become Mafia until migrating to the States.
“Are you nervous?” I kept my voice low. Though we’d hosted several in recent years, the New York Mafia hadn’t been invited to a commission in my lifetime. And what we were about to do would change that, at least with the Verretti family.
“Not about the commission.” Mia tilted her head back and flashed me a small smile. “Only the confrontation that I want to have with Joey.”
“If he missteps, he’ll have several bullets in him.” I wanted to be the one to put them there, although I knew everyone present would do the same.
“Hey, lovebirds.” Enzo winked, strolling closer. “Ready for the show?”
Marco was talking with Stefano and snorted at Enzo’s comment. “They are the show.”
Stefano ran a hand through his closely cropped dark-blond hair then scowled as a ping sounded from his phone. “The Sicilians are almost here.”
Five minutes later, the door opened, and a handful of older men in three-piece suits entered with Max and Luc. Their guards had been instructed to remain in their cars or outside, where ours patrolled.
Among the men were Vincenzo Brambilla, grandfather to Luc and Liliana, Mario Caruso, and Lorenzo Rossi. They were the oldest of the Italian royalty and who we’d dealt with a handful of times, such as when Stefano uncovered the rat in our families.
Vincenzo and Luc talked quietly and off to the side as the other men moved forward, their gaits slow, though none of them were to be underestimated.
“Gentlemen.” Stefano’s gruff voice filled the large room, bouncing off the polished cement floor. “We have news to share before the New York bosses arrive.”
Since Mia was on my left side, I was free to reach for my gun in the shoulder holster if needed. I felt her fingers slide around the Glock tucked into the back of my waistband. While I was mostly sure how the meeting would unfold, bloodshed with so many powerful men present was likely.
Stefano and Max took turns filling them in on everything that had happened. Max had been elected to bring everyone up to speed because of his years living in Italy and his connection to Vincenzo. They briefed the Sicilians about the Tucci trafficking ring that we’d blown wide open, Joey’s early ties to Ivan Pavlov, and what led to the death of both Ricco and Guido. They brought everyone up to speed about past trouble with Guido Amato stalking Summer and his bid for power with his plan to kill his father, something that hadn’t come to pass. And finally, they shared that the results from the expedited sibling DNA test proved that Dante, Cal, and Adriano were Mia’s brothers.
“I look forward to filling your parents in on all the happenings while they’re enjoying retirement in Italy.” Vincenzo chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he fixed his gaze on me. “Now, is this why you brought us here?”
“Eager to get back to Catherine?” I teased. Trey knew what he was doing when he sent Catherine, a dear friend of our family and Mom’s former makeup artist, to stay with him recently while undergoing medical treatment. Given the way his face lit up, it had been good for both of them.
“I am.”
Mario and Lorenzo grunted, but it was Mario who spoke. “Let’s get whatever you’ve concocted over with so we can return.”
The door crashed open, and Mia tensed against me as Dante, Cal, and Adriano Verretti entered with Leo Amato and Joey Tucci on their heels—the main reason we were gathered. There would be no denying orders with everyone present. While we didn’t need such a grand gesture, the Verretti brothers would initially keep the Tucci and Amato families in line.
Leo Amato looked resigned. After all he’d gone through with his son. It could have gone one of two ways. What he exhibited was the better side of the coin.
Mia dropped her arm from my waist and put an inch of space between us. I didn’t like it but respected her for wanting to stand against Joey on her own, although she would never be alone again.
“Why is she here?” Joey zeroed in on Mia, the only woman present.
She raised her chin, her midnight hair rippling over her back, and smirked. Her gaze dropped to his gauze-wrapped hand. “To make sure you receive the report with all the bosses present.”
Stefano slammed his palm down on the table, a copy of the DNA results beneath his hand. He pushed it down the table and crossed his arms over his chest. “You have no claim to Mia La Rosa by blood—you are not her father.”
Joey cast his gaze to the papers as red infused his face. His hand clenched into a fist at his side. The one I’d put a bullet into remained limp. “This is fake.”
“It isn’t.” Dante stepped close, crowding Joey. “My brothers and I participated in the DNA test with Mia. She is our sister and under our protection.”
I cleared my throat, amused.
Dante paused then notched his head in my direction. “As well as her husband’s.”
Mia grabbed her other crutch and limped toward Joey, and I took position at her back, my body tensing to strike should he make even the slightest move toward her.