Page 24 of Bianchi

It’s a question I would have asked him had he blown in like I did. But it sends a frisson of guilt skating down my spine and I fight to keep my face neutral. I slept with the enemy and that is a betrayal that would see a man killed in normal circumstances. It doesn’t help that I can still taste us on my tongue and her unique jasmine scent lingers in my nostrils, or that there’s a devilish desire clawing in my gut for more.

Every ounce of strength I possess goes into keeping my ass planted firmly in my seat. No good will come from me returning to my bedroom and pinning her to the bed, or filling her with cum just so I can savor the taste again.

Running a hand down my face, I silently vow that, when all of this shit is over, I’ll return home and forget all about Aurora Costa. She’ll be eight feet deep with a dead deer on top of her to mask the scent of her decomposing body and keep her from being discovered and I’ll find myself buried in another warm, willing pussy.

It won’t be as perfect as hers.

I adjust myself in my seat, dismissing the taunting thoughts. They have no place in my mind, especially when there are bigger issues at hand than a spectacular piece of ass. Ignoring Massimo’s question, I ask one of my own to channel our focus back into the task at hand. “What do you have?”

Massimo’s face morphs into his usual glower and he shakes his head. He shows me a photo of the carnage of bodies scattered around the restaurant I was in less than two hours ago.

My nostrils flare and I clench and unclench my hands. Any anger that was washed away by my moment with Aurora has come back with full force. I can barely hear Massimo through the mist of rage that engulfs me.

“You were lucky, Rome. The police have run facial recognition on the bodies of two of the gunmen. They were wanted and linked to an organization coming out of Brooklyn. Our insider has said they don’t know much about them yet. From what we’ve managed to gather, we know that they’re newly formed and there’s no link to a specific family or outfit, but that’s about all we know.”

“And the valet I took out at the back?” I spit the question like poison on my tongue.

“A twenty-five-year-old, white male from Queens. Worked there for three years. Not sure what the connection is between him and the other two. He was a recent graduate from NYU, and if I’m being honest with you, Rome, it’s just plain fucking weird that he did what he did.”

Through gritted teeth, I ask, “What about the one that got away?”

Massimo runs a frustrated hand through his hair before answering. “He’s gone underground. The police are searching for him and our guy knows to bring us the intel as soon as he lays his hands on it. They managed to track him to the subway station before he disappeared. I’ve got men out there running down every contact they have. He won’t be able to take a piss without us knowing, let alone leave the city.”

His statement provides little comfort, and he knows it. We have nothing new and what we do know, were clues we got from the bodies of the figli di puttana I killed.

I lean back in my chair, resting my elbows on the arms and steepling my fingers. “What about your men?”

Massimo inhales deeply, darting a glance over at Leonardo, where he’s leaning against the wall. “I don’t think it was one of them.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I edge forward in my seat. My tone is calm and I allow my eyes to convey my frustration as I speak. “Until we’ve ruled every one of them out, Massimo, you don’t know shit. Everyone has a price and somebody in your house has been offered theirs. There is no right or wrong way to figure this out, but I’m telling you now that my way of dealing with it will work. The end will justify the means.”

“Respectfully, Rome, I disagree. Killing my men will do nothing but expose us. I am asking you to trust me on this. We’ll figure out who is behind the attacks and who is feeding them information, but for now, we need all hands on deck.”

I bolt upright, my chair falling back and thudding onto the carpeted floor. Fisting Massimo’s shirt, I drag him out of his seat with the desk between us as I seethe. “And how the fuck do you suppose we do that? Because from where I’m standing, we don’t have merda.”

Massimo exhales sharply. I can see the cogs turning behind his eyes, working on a plan. His shoulders fall, and he meets my gaze. “Give me a week and if I haven’t figured out who it is, then we can do it your way.”

A humorless laugh falls from my lips and I look out of the window before schooling my features. Turning my focus back to him, I release my hold on his shirt. “A week?”

Massimo shrugs. His fingers tap a light rhythm on the mahogany desk, betraying his nervousness. “Yeah. A week, that’s all I’m asking for.”

I move quickly, grabbing the back of his neck, pulling down until his face is inches from the pictures of destruction I faced today. My head follows him down until we’re at eye level with each other and only then do I spit out, “And just how many attempts will be made before your week is over? Will we even make it that far? Look at what they’ve done and then ask me for a fucking week.” I force his face to the pictures before continuing, “If you weren’t going to follow my instructions, why the fuck did you call me here?”

Pressing his head onto the desk, I release him and stand tall. He straightens, smoothing down his shirt with a neutral look on his face as he masks his emotions. “You know why I called you here, Rome. And you know that I’ve never once asked you to give me more time. I’ve always followed your direction without question, but right now, I’m listening to my gut, just like Nonno taught us.”

We stare at each other for the longest time, both unwilling to back down. An edge creeps into the room, sucking out the light and turning it dark until Leonardo clears his throat.

I narrow my eyes. “You can have your week, but just know, the second we’re attacked, I’ll be lining you up out there,” I motion through the window, before continuing, “with your men.”

Massimo nods his agreement, and I turn to right my chair. We still have things to figure out. Taking a seat again, I ask, “Does it still look like Francesco is behind all of this, or are we being attacked by two different organizations?”

Leonardo stands tall, clasping his hands as he pushes his shoulders back. “We know it was definitely him behind the bombing at the docks. The evidence was clear on that one, what with his signature on the device. It’s hard to say for certain with the restaurant or the other two attacks. What was left behind at each scene hasn’t led us anywhere, but we have an address from the bodies at the restaurant and I’m going to take three men to check it out tonight.”

“I think it would be better for us to keep this as quiet as possible.”

Massimo rubs his eye. “What are you thinking?”

“If we’re just staking out the place, then there’s no reason it can’t be the three of us and Daniele.”

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