Page 52 of Vicious Redemption

This is exactly why Leo doesn’t want me speaking with my family. And while I can’t stand the thought that Maria might not be a safe confidant anymore, perhaps Leo was right. I should cut ties until he’s resolved the conflict between our families. Because the last thing I want to do is unwittingly hurt Leo again.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I pull myself back together.

Then I snatch the phone up off the bed and stash it in my bedside table once again. I just hope my instincts aren’t leading me astray. My gut tells me Maria wouldn’t betray me. But my head says it’s more than possible, and I don’t think I can take that chance.

“God, what is wrong with me?” I breathe, burying my face in my hands.

I comb through our very brief conversation in my head, trying to think if I said anything I might regret. I think I’m safe.

Flopping back onto the bed, I rest my palms over my belly. “Baby, don’t ever let me do something stupid like that again, okay?”

My lips quirk at the irony that I’m now requesting emotional support from my unborn child. But thinking about her helps ground me. She helps me see what’s most important in life. And as much as I’m going to miss Maria, talking to my sister is not the highest priority right now. I can set aside my personal wants and needs. I can support Leo’s request.

And I will find a way to end this conflict. Even if I have to do it on my own.

25

LEO

It’s already well past noon, and my head is throbbing when my office phone rings. I pick up without checking the number, rubbing my tired eyes.

The hours I’m putting in are not sustainable, but even though Johnny’s doing his best to pick up the slack, with my father in the hospital, I’m working two jobs while my family is running on high alert trying to quash any sign of residual unrest caused by Don Guerra’s actions. And all while under Mayor Romney’s microscope.

I rest the phone against my ear. “Yeah.”

“Signor Moretti, a Don Giuseppe Guerra, is on the line for you,” Anita says across the line.

Immediately, I’m wide awake, adrenaline thrumming through my veins at the unexpected call. “I’ll speak with him,” I assure her.

“Yes, sir,” she agrees.

Then the phone clicks, alerting me that she’s transferred the call.

“Don Guerra, what a pleasant surprise,” I state dryly, fully trusting that this is about the man I shot this morning. My stomach knots as I wonder if he’s not calling to inform me the man died. I don’t relish the guilt that follows.

“I’m sure it is,” he says, his voice surprisingly devoid of bitterness. “A surprise, that is, considering I hadn’t planned on making it myself until very recently.”

“Why are you calling?” If he’s going to play the gentleman, I suppose I can play along and see what the hell he wants.

“I had hoped you and Tia might be willing to sit down to dinner with me and my wife. You can choose a restaurant—one that would be considered neutral ground—if that’s what you would prefer.”

That’s just about the last thing I ever would have expected him to say, and I pause a beat as I consider what the possible implications could be. My greatest concern is that it could be a trap, and if it is, that would put Tia right in the middle of something dangerous—possibly even deadly.

“Dinner. And when did you intend for this dinner to take place?” My language is stiff with my tension, and I grip the receiver convulsively.

“Tonight, if you’re free.”

That puts me slightly at ease. If he’s going to let me choose the venue and he intends to meet tonight, he won’t have time to plan anything very extravagant in the way of an ambush. Especially if I choose the right venue and don’t tell him until the last minute.

“I’ll speak with Tia and get back to you about a time and place,” I say.

“Very good,” he agrees amiably.

And once again, my suspicion spikes. “May I ask what changed your mind?”

“I’m sorry?” he asks, for the first time seeming caught off guard by my question.

“You said you hadn’t planned on making this phone call until recently. I was just curious what changed.”

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