Page 6 of King of Wrath

I drank scotch and sat in the nursing glider, because, honestly, those chairs are comfortable.

Might get one.

Has a foot stool that glides too.

Anyway, we set around with tiny stupid Allen wrenches and discussed how we were going to bring down the head of the Italian mafia here in Vegas. Not two activities you’d expect to go together.

Then again, considering the first part of this plan Leo has concocted, it’s probably fitting.

I’d sipped my scotch and rocked in the glider as I watched Leo hunched on the floor.

Behind him were boxes of vibrating chairs, which are an interesting idea, and exersaucers, complete bullshit if you ask me. And I’d asked the question one last time. “You’re sure she’s a witness in the murder?”

“If Melissa was telling the truth, then yes.” Melissa is Leo’s former club manager and a backstabbing bitch, so her information is suspect in my book.

“And what if she’s lying?”

“Either way, Nia is his favorite. Taking her will be your leverage to get him to confess.”

I grimace even remembering the next part of my plan, my attention focusing back on the ceremony in front of me.

I’ve been to a few weddings.

None of them have ever been like this. There are only about fifteen guests here, our family, Kim’s mom and roommates, and a few business associates. It’s intimate and personal and it reminds me that marriage has the potential to be beautiful. Not a thought that is helpful today.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

“Finally,” Leo roars and then pulls Kim tightly against him, kissing her with a whole lot of tongue.

Luke catcalls from next to me, and I give him a withering glare. Sometimes I’ve got to teach these boys how it’s done.

Kim and Leo come back down the aisle, and we all rise, clapping for the new couple.

I have to hold back a sigh, enthusiasm is not in my emotional repertoire.

But I do smile as they reach the end of the aisle, and Leo picks up his new bride, not stopping to greet guests. Instead, he just keeps walking right into the house.

Kim lets out a small cry of protest but the men around me all chuckle.

“He doesn’t want to wait to have sanctioned sex,” Luke says from just behind me. “I can appreciate that.”

“He’s an emotional guy,” Roman chuckles from the next row.

I cock my eyebrows. “When you’re married, does wanting to bang your wife count as emotion?”

They all laugh at that as I catch the eye of Gris Smith, an Englishman who is part of another major family in Vegas. They call themselves the Dukes and we’ve made a deal with them that if they can help us out with this plan, they’ll be able to acquire some choice Vegas real estate when the Italians are forced to sell it.

Gris jerks his head toward the side yard and then starts walking.

I follow, my gut clenching with dread. If he wants to talk, that means we’re moving to the next phase of the plan.

We disappear around the house, leaving the rest of the guests behind. “Gris,” I give him a nod. “News?”

“It will be tonight,” he says with a quick dip of chin.

“Tonight?” A bit of regret lances through me. We’ve gone through great pains to make all this happen, but there is a part of me that hates this plan. I might be a gangster, but I don’t hurt women. Doubly true for beautiful women and Nia Carcetti is most definitely one of those.

Nia is Toni Carcetti’s youngest daughter, and the apple of his eye.

---