Page 16 of Diamond Fortress

The bouncer who befriended me.

My husband’s best friend and closest confidant.

And apparently, someone who works for my real family.

I trust him.

I know deep in my soul nothing will happen to me in his care.

But I need to know.

“Tell me your part in this,” I say, ignoring the way my phone is ringing again. I don’t look because I know Dante’s name will be on the screen.

“What?”

“You said you don’t work for the Carluccios, but I know you’re a made man in their family. You know an awful lot about my grandfather and have been calling me princess for as long as I can remember. That’s not a coincidence, I’m sure. So, what’s your part in this?”

He doesn’t respond, and when my phone rings again in my hand, I lift it so he can see Dante’s name before giving him an ultimatum. “You tell me or I’m sending him a text to tell him where I’m going and turning my location back on.” We slow at another red light, and I watch as Marco tips his head to the sky, praying to whoever it is he prays to. “Marco.”

Another long moment passes, and he shakes his head at the roof of the car, as if his bartering with the almighty power didn’t turn out in his favor, before he sighs and looks at me.

“Fine. I’ll explain my involvement. And to be honest, you should text him when we get there anyway. Don’t leave it like that, giving the man a fuckin’ heart attack. Let him know you’re safe, where you are.”

And that is why I trust Marco to take me to some undisclosed location.

Because in the same breath, he’s telling me that I need to let my husband know where I am so he doesn’t go into cardiac arrest in my absence.

“You know he’s still going to want to kill you when we get back, right?” I ask, smiling. The light turns green and Marco starts driving again.

“Yup.”

“He’s probably going to punch you.”

“Won’t be the first time, won’t be the last.”

I can’t help but wonder what the other circumstances were that made Dante punch Marco.

But I don’t have time to ask that question because Marco starts to speak.

“I was 20 when I was sent to the Carluccios to become made into the family.”

The car is silent as Marco drops that bomb.

It’s not the age. Most men get caught up in the life early, from what I’ve learned, and I am well aware that Marco was made.

It’s that he was sent.

It’s such a tiny word that changes the entire meaning of a sentence.

He doesn’t give me time to question that, though.

“Grew up in Hudson City. A street rat, always getting into trouble. I knew from a young age I wasn’t going to fit into a normal life, knew I liked the danger too much. When I was 16, I sought out the Russo family, started running errands. Small shit, delivering letters and checking in on people.”

The Russo family.

Not the Carluccios.

“I turned 18 and your grandfather had me made. Said I was meant to be a man of the family, that it was my calling.”

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