Page 73 of Consumed By the Mafia

“Keep that up,” Ryoma said, his voice tight with anger, “and I’ll break your fucking nose on that table.”

“The fuck?” Silva exclaimed.

Abigail was genuinely torn on whether she wanted to roll her eyes or grin like an idiot. “Ryoma, we had a deal.”

“It’s in his hands,” Ryoma said calmly. “All he has to do isnot, and it doesn’t happen.”

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” Silva demanded. He gestured between them, the chain rattling. “You’re supposed to protect me from nutjobs like this!”

Irritation flashed through her and Abigail thought maybe she understood her boyfriend’s perspective better than she should. “You heard him. All you have to do is refrain from the insults and he won’t get violent. It’s not as if I have him on a leash.”

Silva scoffed.

Abigail leaned back in her seat. “Why don’t we get back to the topic at hand? You have information to be sharing.”

Silva hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. “I’d rather he left.”

Abigail re-crossed her legs. “I’d rather you talk.” She let her words hang for only a second. “You were much chattier withMr. De Salvo in the room. Should I wait for him to be done with his family crisis and return when he’s available again?”

Silva cursed. “No. No, fuck, I’ll talk.” He sighed. “You … might wanna take notes, or something. I paid attention.”

twenty-two

Like Dominoes

Ryoma didn’t know whichhe wanted more. To bash Rodrigo Silva’s skull against the concrete floor until it was little more than paste, or to pin Abby to the nearest wall and fuck her until his knees gave out. They were very different urges, but nonetheless both coursed through him in waves.

It wasn’t surprising that every word out of Silva’s mouth was infuriating.

It was less surprising that Ryoma found the restrained, woman-in-charge side of side of Abby sexy as hell.

It was a damn shame he had neither the time, nor the luxury, to indulge in either.

Ryoma’s phone buzzed with an incoming call, one he hoped was a response to the message he’d sent out minutes earlier. He lifted a hand from the steering wheel long enough to answer and said, “Talk to me.”

Miguel’s voice spoke in his ear. “Family’s takin’ a day, man. Kinda thought you knew.” He barely paused. “Speakin’ of things I thought you knew, pretty sure Boss made it clear you were supposed to stick to that FBI girl like glue?”

Ryoma ground his teeth. “It’sbecauseof the kind of day this is turnin’ into that I didn’t have much choice on that. Is the entire family still wrapped up at Mama El’s?”

“I don’t even know all the details,” Miguel said, frustration slipping into his voice. “Mama El’s okay, far as I know, but I’m pretty sure someone else ain’t. Idoknow the boss found a guy or two to take it out on.”

Ryoma flexed his fingers over the wheel and shifted lanes. Eleonora being okay was good. The rest of Miguel’s message seemed less-so. “One of ours?”

Miguel made another frustrated sound. “Look, man, I don’t even know how much I’m supposed to be tellin’ you. Why the hell did you leave—”

“If it wasn’t for Abby, we would never have known that hit was fucking coming,” Ryoma snapped. “But fine. Don’t fucking talk to me. Just listen. We got more out of Silva—a shit-ton more—and it sounds like Coughlan’s not just moving on Mama El. Cris didn’t answer his goddamn phone when I called, and the last thing I’m going to do is taking fucking risks with my best friend.” Ryoma sucked in a breath, his destination finally in sight, and spit out the words he needed tosay. “Coughlan’s coming aftereveryone, but he’s not doing it stupid. He’s targeting their wives, Lucy and Vitto, too. They all need to stay the fuck at home, behind armed guards they know and trust, because once the attack starts it sounds like his plan is to steamroll through everyone at fucking once.”

“Son of a bitch,” Miguel muttered. “He got enough manpower to do that? I thought the Irish mob was wiped out last time?”

“Locally,” Ryoma said. “And this could all be a big fucking lie to have us all running around like decapitated chickens, but we can’t take that kinda risk.” He swung too sharply into the parking garage, the SUV bouncing more than it should as he crossed the threshold. “I’m at the tower now. I don’t know where the fuck Cris is, but I’ll do what I can to keep Felicity safe until he gets here. Andthatis why I left Abby at the goddamn safehouse.” He jabbed at his mounted phone to disconnect the call, screeched into his parking space, and jumped from the vehicle.

He wasn’t thrilled about having left Abby at the safehouse-turned-private penitentiary, but he hadn’t seen another choice. As things stood,hewas the only one who fully trusted her. That meant none of his family would appreciate him bringing her even up to the perimeter of their personal homes, let alone inside. If it were Brandi he was rushing to check on he could have justified it, since they were living on the same property currently despite that the women hadn’t been introduced. But Brandi was in many ways the least at risk.

Felicity was another story. Felicity was the only De Salvo wife who lived in a high-rise, surrounded by and yet isolatedfrom everyone else. With the bulk of the family’s attention having been diverted to the drama earlier in the day, it was more than likely that she would have been instructed to tuck herself away in the penthouse until the situation was clear. Relying on out of sight, out of mind.

Ryoma went straight for the private elevator this time. He couldn’t take the risk of being even a moment too late, and that meant he couldn’t be picky. As the elevator ascended, he pulled out his phone and typed a quick text to Abby.Just arrived. Be safe ‘til I get back, baby girl.

Then he tucked the device away and extracted his gun. It wouldn’t pay to be caught unprepared, if he wasn’t the first on scene.

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