I didn’t desire. Especially not stupid, innocent girls who found themselves in my path.

But I wanted her.

Desperately, yet I knew I couldn’t indulge that feeling, so I tried my hardest to keep it away.

“Keep an eye on her,” I said to Sebastian.

“I’m on babysitting duty?” he responded, almost pouting, the expression ridiculous on the face of a stone-cold killer like Sebastian.

My reaction was swift. “You’re on whatever the fuck I tell you duty,” I said, glaring at him.

“Sorry, Nico. No offense,” he said, raising his hands to placate me.

“Then watch your fucking tongue, and do as your told, Sebastian,” I said.

I looked back up the stairway, then back at him.

“Just do your fucking job, and no screw-ups,” I said.

He nodded, then adjusted his shirt.

It wasn’t a formal apology, but I’d made myself clear.

I left the living room, going down to the garage, anxious to leave the townhouse.

Hope had my head fucked up, and I needed to be focused for what I had to do next.

The drive passed in a blur, but in twenty minutes, I found myself turning in a garage Don Carlo owned.

Enzo was waiting for me

“Are they gathered?” I asked when Enzo settled in the passenger seat of my car.

“Everyone’s waiting at the club,” he responded.

Another fifteen minutes, and I was back atCarlo’s.

“Slide Giacobbe a few dollars extra for his work,” I said when we got out of the car.

“You haven’t seen inside yet,” Enzo said.

“No, but what’s inside doesn’t matter as much as what others can see, and he’s done a good job on the outside. I wouldn’t know that there been a fucking shootout here unless I’d been there myself. Which is exactly why he deserves to be paid so well,” I said.

And it was true.

The sidewalk had some debris, but nothing out of the ordinary, and I was sure that if it were cleaner, it would look more suspicious.

More importantly, the window and doors had no visible bullet holes, no splinters, and the window had been restored and recoated with mirrored tint.

It looked like theCarlo’sof old, just as I’d intended.

I walked inside and saw a dozen men milling around as Giacobbe’s daughters scrubbed the floors.

“You lazy fucks are just standing around and not helping out?” I said.

The men laughed, and I smiled, knowing that I shouldn’t be surprised.

This was a good group, strong, well trained, but manual labor, unless it involved removal of evidence, was not a forte of any of the men.