Page 101 of Ruthless Guardian

Enrico folds down into a high-backed leather chair the color of my favorite scotch. Then his darting eyes lift to mine. “Why have you come today?”

I remain standing because for some damned reason it feels like I’m the accused, here to plead my case in front of a judge. Again, the words seem to allude me despite having gone over my speech a hundred times overnight when I should have been sleeping.

“Raffaele Ferrara, I don’t have time for stalling...”

“I’m not. I only came to ask an important question.”

“Then ask.”

I knot my hands together to keep them from clenching. “As you may be aware, I arrived in Rome about a month ago with a client. She is to remain here only for another month then we will return stateside. Someone sent a shooter to her apartment last week, and I need to know why.”

His silver speckled brow lifts into an arc. “Well, she’s your client. Shouldn’t you have the answer?”

“I caught the shooter, but the name he gave me was a middleman, nothing more than a low-life Albanian who negotiates contracts for hire.” I pause, attempting to tread lightly in spite of the fury lashing at my veins. “You remember Arjan Kola, don’t you?”

The flicker of a smile tugs at the wrinkled edge of his lip. “The name does sound familiar…” His eyes narrow as he regards me. “But as I recall, your father uses the man as well. What makes you think he isn’t responsible for this, too?”

“Too?” I blurt.

“Mmm.” He drums his fingers on the arm rest. “I’ve heard your father is attempting to expand the Ferrara empire into Manhattan. Were you not aware?”

I shake my head as ice rushes my veins.Dio, I remember hearing him talk about that when I was just a kid. It was a fool’s dream…

“In fact, I understand some Russians shot up a popular bar owned by the infamous Kings a few months ago. Perhaps, you’ve heard of it? The Velvet Vault.”

My stomach churns, acid eating away at my insides. No. It couldn’t be…

“The Kings have been making moves in your father’s territory in Rome, Raffa, so it was only natural for him to strike back. You would know if you hadn’t walked out on your family. Such a drastic move… I often wonder what could have precipitated that?”

Ignoring his question, I spit out the venom-laced words on the tip of my tongue. “You’re telling me that it was my father who organized the shooting at The Velvet Vault?”

“That certainly seems like a logical conclusion, doesn’t it?”

My thoughts whirl back in time to all those months ago. The attack had been on the front page of every New York newspaper, print and digital alike. And somehow that night, a mysterious text message had brought me to the very laundromat beside the exclusive club where I met Luca Valentino’s daughter for the first time.

Cazzo, couldPapàhave coordinated that, too?

“But why?”

“I was never overly fond of you, Raffa, and especially not after you got my Laura pregnant, but you were never a stupid man.” He leans forward, searing me with that dark glare. Even seated the old man is intimidating. “Don’t you think it’s convenient you found yourself with a job as bodyguard to the Kings’principessa?”

“No…” I growl. There is no way. No wayPapàcould have exerted his influence from thousands of miles away like that.Igot the job because I earned it. Because I was the best choice. Again, my thoughts spin to the past, to that fortuitous day that I happened to be at the right place at just the right time when those mobsters tried to shoot up Isabella’s car.Cazzo, had my father arranged that too? My head spins, nausea clawing up my throat.

None of this makes sense.

I repeat the words over and over again.

But they do… they make perfect sense. What better way to fuck with your enemy than by penetrating their inner circle? And with a completely unsuspecting fool?

There is only one part that doesn’t add up.

“Then why didPapàtry to kill me?”

“Ah, Raffa, that wasn’t your father. That was me.”

CHAPTER 50

COFFEE AND PARANOIA

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