Page 53 of Vicious Redemption

The line goes quiet for a beat, and I quirk an eyebrow.

When the older man speaks again, I could almost believe it’s with a hint of apology in his tone. “It has come to my attention that you had it within your power to kill several people who are important to me today… and you chose not to. And I think it’s time we sat back down and had a candid conversation about where things might go between our families moving forward.”

Interesting.

If Tia’s pleas for mercy on her family actually prove beneficial, I just might have to buy her a private plane or a castle in Europe. Maybe a Greek island.

“I look forward to it.” I keep my voice even, as indifferent as I can manage.

But as soon as I hang up, I’m out of my chair, slinging my suit jacket over my shoulder as I head for the door. It takes no time at all to get from Club Divino back home, and after a brief conversation with Luigi, I head straight to the library, where he assures me Tia’s been for the last hour.

“Tia,” I call as I fling open the double doors.

My voice echoes around the vast room, and a startled yelp from the second floor directs me to her exact location. As I stride across the mosaic decorating the marble floor, my lovely wife appears at the railing above me.

“Leo? You’re home early. Is everything alright? Is your father…?” Her face pales as if a horrible realization just hit her.

“Fine—he’s fine. At least he was a few hours ago.”

Her shoulders sag with relief, and she moves toward the stairs, following the railing to stay within sight as I move to meet her halfway.

“So, why are you bursting in here like the house is on fire after you told me you wouldn’t be home until late?” Her bare feet pad softly down the steps, and as she reaches the bottom one, I snake my arms around her waist, pulling her close as she stands at eye level.

“Your father called and invited us to dinner. Tonight,” I state, reading her expression closely. “What do you think? Do you want to go?”

Tia bites her lip, her expression shifting to nervous in a flash. “Did he give a reason?” she asks tentatively.

“When I asked, he said he wanted to discuss how our families might try moving forward from here.” I leave out the reason behind it because, while what I did today would be considered mercy in my book, I’m not so sure Tia would see it that way. Better to wait until I know if the man lived or died. Then, I can face the consequences.

Her eyebrows press together in the sweetest look of hope and anxiety.

“Is that a yes?” I press. “You know your father best. And what I care about most is your safety, so if it could be an ambush, I’ll go alone.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. It could be an ambush. But that’s why I think it’s better if I do go. He would be less inclined to spring a trap if it could hurt me. Still… I don’t know. I don’t want to give you a false sense of security.”

The flicker of pain in her eyes tells me all I need to know. She can’t trust her father anymore—like she used to. And it makes her sad to know her worth in his eyes might be far less than she would hope for.

Trapping her chin between my finger and thumb, I press a soft kiss to her lips. “I appreciate your honesty, and I promise I’ll take every precaution to ensure we don’t get caught unprepared.”

Tia nods, relief washing across her face.

We’re on a team now, working together, and I sincerely hope that with Tia by my side, I can actually rein in this rebellion without having to make it a bloodbath.

I leave Tia to get ready, knowing that if I join her, I’ll be too easily distracted. Instead, I spend the next several hours discussing with Johnny and Rasco where would be the best venue to have this dinner—somewhere private enough that we can have the conversation Don Guerra’s proposing, public enough that he won’t be able to kill me without witnesses, and in a location that we could both consider neutral.

It proves a hell of a lot harder to do than I would have anticipated. Finally, we land on Belladonna, an Italian restaurant that technically resides on the border of both our territories and has managed to avoid falling under either Moretti or Guerra rule because it opened shortly after the announcement of my engagement to Tia.

While neither of us have claimed it, which makes the restaurant a rare neutral point, it’s also rather something of an unknown layout—one I’ve never been in myself. But Rasco and Johnny have agreed to scout ahead, get a lay of the land, and post several of our men at tables throughout the restaurant in case we need backup.

By the time I call Don Guerra back, I’ve given him little more than an hour to get ready for the time I suggest. That doesn’t seem to faze him, which, once again, gives me hope that his invitation might be sincere.

Finally, I head to the private suite Tia and I share so I can change.

She’s already dressed by the time I walk in, her hair done, and she’s putting the finishing touches on her makeup. When she turns to me, she gives me a nervous smile, but she looks positively radiant.

“You look stunning in red,” I observe, admiring the cherry-red, velvet cowl-neck dress with ruched stitching along the sides.

It hugs her curves perfectly before reaching down to her knees. She’s painted her lips to match, making them even more irresistible than usual.

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