Page 67 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

“My gun is under the seat, but I’ll need it,” I tell him.

He glances at Mickey.

Mickey shrugs. “We’ll give it to him when we leave.”

“What about the girl?” the bodyguard asks.

“Touch her and I break your face,” I say automatically.

The bodyguard growls and steps closer to me.

Mickey cackles. “It’s okay, Carlo. I think Nicky here will help with the family’s Nardone problem.”

Carlo shrugs and steps back.

Mickey eyes Bella exiting the car. He whistles. “Taking after your father, I see.”

I bite down the urge to punch him for that. “Saving her from him, more like it.”

“Welcome, Bella.”

Bella frowns. “How’d you know?—”

“He doesn’t. He’s saying welcome, beautiful,” I say, wondering if her family never used Italian. While the language is used less and less through the generations, some sayings always remain.

Mickey shakes his head. “She’s the Outfit’s girl.”

“He arranged with my father for her. I’m supposed to be the delivery boy, but well, I ran into some trouble.”

Mickey pats me on the back. “Your father is a fucking asshole.”

“I know.”

“Come in. I’ll show you around. No one should bother you here. The home is mine but hidden. You know how it goes.”

“I do.” As a Mafia lawyer, I often found legal ways for our members to hide assets. The important part is if my father thinks I might come to Mickey, odds are he wouldn’t find this house if it’s not under any of Mickey’s names or business names.

The house isn’t much different from the resort motel we stayed in. Clean. Functional. But outdated and tired. It would be perfect for lying low for however long it takes.

As it turns out,that checkpoint spooked me more than I thought, and for the next week, we don’t leave the house, except for the few times I go to pick up food and other provisions. I wanted to meet with Max, but he felt my father had close eyes on him, so we didn’t risk it. I thought coming home would give me the support I needed, but as it turns out, I’m still on my own.

Max did relay that my crew was grumbling about what my father might have done and would be loyal to me. The trickwould be connecting with them without my father getting wind of it.

Through careful probing, I learn my father is making aggressive moves against Rinella. He's spreading word that Rinella had me killed and took Bella, trying to turn The Outfit against him, just as Max had explained the other day. What is new is my father’s willingness to offer support to Rinella's rivals within The Outfit, promising backing if they move against him.

It's a smart play. If The Outfit takes out Rinella, my father gets a foothold in Chicago without directly moving against them. Plus, he gets revenge for my "death" without getting his hands dirty.

I heard he reached out to the D’Amatos. I wonder what Bella would think of her sister’s new family conspiring against her father. However, word was the D’Amatos weren’t interested and in fact were suspicious of my father. Well, of course they would be. Ava’s sister disappeared with me.

What I’m hoping is that my father’s plan can create an opportunity for me. Rinella will be desperate for allies. If I approach him with proof my father tried to have me killed and is now setting him up, Rinella might help me get close enough to take out my father. I’d just have to do it without agreeing to give Bella back, something I’m not sure he’d go along with. In the end, he’s still a fucking bastard. It’s possible Rinella would hand me over to my father to save his own skin.

I keep these thoughts to myself, not wanting to burden Bella with the ugly details. She already looks worried enough when she catches me brooding over my plans. Sometimes, I catch her watching me with a mix of concern and something else… something that makes my chest ache.

I watch her now as she goes through the bookshelf, every now and then pulling out a book. In the last week, she’s readthree or four. When she’s not reading, she’s tidying or cooking. I wonder if she’s bored yet.

"Come here," I say.

She sets down the books and walks over to where I’m sitting at the table, settling naturally into my lap. The ease of our physical connection still surprises me. I've never been one for casual touches, yet with her it feels right. I’ve given in to it even as I know it's problematic. But we’re in a moment in time that will end. What can it hurt to enjoy her company while we’re stuck together?

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