Page 14 of The Sicilian Brotherhood I

She shook her head and refused to answer anyone but me. My men were furious, but she wouldn’t budge. I sent her back upstairs, locking the door behind her again.

“So, do you believe her now?”

Pietro nodded, “She knows where it is. We may have to use extreme force to get it out of her.”

I furrowed my brow.

“Force isn’t necessary.”

“Why not?” Santo questioned, “If she were anyone else, she’d be dead right now.”

“I said we aren’t hurting her. She could be useful. I intend to keep her around until I find said use.”

The men exchanged glances.

“I’ve got to head out this morning. There’s more to worry about than the diamond.”

“You had a man’s sister killed,” Pietro replied, “Watch yourself out there.”

“I’m not afraid of Franco.”

“He’s not the one you need to be afraid of.”

I pursed my lips. Pietro was right. Franco was a problem, but he was the least of my worries. I had more Italians itching to take me out than a plate of fettuccini pasta. It was the East Coast that was the problem.

“Get gas in the bikes. We’ll leave once I get back.”

“Where are you going?” Elena asked.

Pietro glowered at her and she averted her eyes bashfully.

“I’m paying my men from yesterday. Don’t cause trouble while I’m gone.”

“What about the girl?” Santo snapped, his skin reddening to nearly match his strawberry blond hair.

“Leave her be until I get back,” I replied.

Santo shrugged. Pietro nodded. Raimondo said nothing, sitting in brooding silence. I grunted goodbye and left. If they knew what was good for them, they’d leave Dahlia alone.

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Dahlia

I watched out my window as Giacomo mounted his bike. He never noticed me watching him. I couldn’t help but stare.

I’d never been so close to anyone so terrifying in my life. Franco was one thing, but he was weak-willed and sensitive. His rages didn't scare me once I saw how much they masked his crippling insecurities. Franco was dangerous but he wasn't as terrifying as Giacomo.

Giac Valducci dripped in pure strength and fearlessness.

He’d caught me in his arms like I was easy prey. As he left the house, he raked his fingers through his chestnut hair, zipped his brown leather jacket and put on his helmet. He was always armed, always gruff, always unapproachable. He’d had plenty of chance to hurt me and he hadn’t. I couldn’t help but respect that.

As he revved his bike into action and zoomed down the dirt road, I couldn’t help but worry. There were other bikes outside which meant I wasn’t alone, but without Giacomo, I worried.

Raimondo had made his intentions clear and while I was certain Giacomo would stop him from acting on those intentions, I wasn’t sure about the others. I didn’t know all their names, but I could draw their faces from memory.

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