Page 87 of Mafia Star

“I know you said something similar to Enzo at the reception. I won’t take it any less seriously than he did.”

“Good. Liz, where are we eating? I’m starving.”

“You’re always hungry. You eat more now than you did when you were seventeen.”

“And I weigh the same as I did then, too. Where are we headed?”

Marco speaks up since I actually don’t know.

“Donatelli’s. It’s a family favorite. Our uncle’s childhood best friend owns the place, and our uncle would eat there every day if my aunt weren’t such an amazing cook who insists he’s home to do the dishes every night.”

Marco tilts his head toward Carmine as he speaks about their shared uncle. After spending so many hours with his family last night, I can believe that. The part about Sylvia’s cooking and her rule that Salvatore does the dishes.

Carmine twists and joins the conversation as they discuss investments and how the market is doing right now. I could join in since I’m not ignorant on the topic, but I’m too tired. Marco wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I lean against him. I’m about to drift off when the vehicle stops.

“Wait.”

Marco speaks to Steve over my head. I know the protocol that no one gets out of a vehicle unless the driver or guard opens the door, so I don’t move. Carmine and Pauly get out, and a moment later Carmine opens Steve’s door, and Pauly opens Marco’s. Steve’s not sure what to make of Carmine standing outside the vehicle, looking like he could be the chauffeur.

“Steve, get out. Carmine’s my bodyguard today. But he’s watching out for you and Marco. He’s not going anywhere until you move.”

I follow Marco out of the car since he’s on the side with the curb. Steve walks around to us, looking in every direction before he looks down at me. It registers with me that he’s wearing just as nicely a tailored suit at the other men. Carmine moves behind us while Pauly leads. Steve seems to just know that he should walk exactly at my right side like Marco is on my left.

I’m completely surrounded tightly enough that only someone taller than the guys could see me. My brother fits in shockingly well. I slide my hand into Marco’s and wrap my other one around Steve’s forearm. I give it a squeeze. He was always the mellow one in the family. Maybe that’s why I was so blunt. I knew he’d take it all in stride.

Once we’re at the table and have menus, I feel better than I have all morning. Salvatore is here so often and loves the place so much that the owner created a section specifically for the Mancinelli family. They've angled the table, so everyone has their back to a wall. Pauly’s standing by the backdoor, and a guy from the kitchen who isn’t dressed like restaurant staff is now positioned at the front door. The other guards followed us in a town car, and I think they’re outside the building.

Among Marco, Steve, and Carmine, they’ve ordered the entire right side of the menu. I’ll be lucky if the kitchen has anything left for me. I’m four bites into my manicotti when the bells over the front door jingle. I don’t pay attention until Marco and Carmine both stand.

“Get behind us.”

Marco pulls my chair out, and Steve stands too. Carmine and Marco shift, so my brother and I are behind both of them. It forces Steve and me to move until our backs brush the wall. We look at each other, neither understanding what’s happening other than it’s something bad.

Chapter Nineteen

Marco

What the fuck is he doing alive?

The last any of us knew, Robert Simms was on his deathbed. Actually, we thought the Triad beat him to death. The photo they sent us made it look like he was beyond recovery. Yet here he stands in the flesh. He looks like shit. I can see some fresh scars, and he looks like he’s aged.

The man is a mercenary all of us have used. He’s not loyal to a single family. He’s loyal to the money. For years, we all figured he kept it tucked under a mattress. After the shit with Pasha Kutsenko, he probably actually does now. He’s always been like a ghost. People rarely saw him, and most of us didn’t know what he looked like. But shit with Pasha and his wife flushed him out.

The fucker’s still elusive though, and he has more than nine lives. What the hell is he doing here? There’s no way he believes he’s meeting with Uncle Salvatore. The guy doesn’t do business meetings. He uses burner phones for everything. I know he isn’t here for Mikey’s pasta primavera. Now I’m not getting my calzone. That alone pisses me off. The crust. The melted cheese. I’m ready to put a bullet through Simms’s head thinking about my missed lunch.

“Simms.”

I’m not offering anything more than that. I’m watching everything from the way he breathes to where his eyes focus. They haven’t left us since he walked in, which means he already knows who’s here. He’s not expecting any surprises. That makes me worry about our guys outside. It’s not like we’ve gotten a family photo with him or like we hang out with him. The men wouldn’t have recognized him, but that wouldn’t have stopped him from putting a bullet through their heads.

“Hiya, Marky.”

I have never gone by the name. Mama said I came out of the womb too serious to ever consider a diminutive of my name.

Carmine remains silent next to me, but we both have our guns pointing at him. Pauly and the guy, who works for Mikey but doubles as security when our family is here, have theirs trained on Simms too. My cousin and I are shielding Beth and Steve, but they’ll hear whatever this disgratziat’— disgraceful is the proper translation, but I mean bastard —has to say.

“You can stand in front of your bella figa with the DSL, but I know she’s there. I’ve seen her plenty of times.”

He’s goading me. He just called Beth a beautiful cunt with dick sucking lips. He knows everything in me wants to shoot him. But I don’t trust him not to have other people here. Ones who’ll shoot me the moment I pull the trigger. Ones who’ll kill Beth.

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