Page 7 of The Bodyguard's Vow

He wasn’t completely wrong. Giovanni Dominici was Rafa’s Capo di Provincia of the North Carolina branch. Only the De Angelises had been part of The Family longer than the Dominicis. They’d joined forces when Lorenzo DeLuca had married Camilla Dominici, after his first wife died. They’d been old money, owning an extremely profitable shipping business. It was a family mystery as to whether they married for love or the merging of their empires.

Like Lorenzo, Giovanni was known for being a fucking tyrant. He was extremely logical and had no patience fordreamers or people who played games. He was going to be pissed at me for sending him a problem child. Hopefully, his anger would burn out before he showed up on my doorstep with a roll of duct tape and a body bag.

Giovanni had been born and raised on a horse ranch, and they were his first love. He bred and trained horses as one of The Family’s “legitimate” businesses. “He’ll get over it. She’s one of the best exercise riders we’ve hired. Her talents are wasted on the horses here.”

The stables at Magnolia Crest were for family use, not business. So the staff didn’t have to be the best, though our standards were still high.

Aldo shrugged. “It’s your funeral,” he muttered as he walked away.

Rolling my eyes, I entered Rafa’s office and shut the door behind me.

“Che mi dici?” I asked, wondering what was on his mind. From his demeanor, I was guessing someone was about to be given their last rites.

I dropped onto one of the comfy chairs in a sitting area near the door. It had a good vantage point, but since the doors and windows were bullet proof, I could relax more than usual.

“Oswald is going to be a bigger problem than we expected,” he growled, angrily tossing his phone onto the desk.

“You knew he’d be pissed when we poached his biggest client,” I reminded him. The little shit had been boasting about encroaching on DeLuca territory, and we decided we needed a little show of force to warn off any other small crime organizations from thinking they might have a shot at The Family. We’d annihilate them of course, but it was always better to spray for bugs rather than wait and crush them one by one.

Practically owning every precinct within a few miles of our town, as well as having a few cops on our payroll throughout therest of the state, was useful in many ways. We’d not only taken Oswald’s biggest client for weapons smuggling, but we’d also set up a sting with the police that sent his supplier of heroine to jail for-fucking-ever.

“Our plant inside Douglas Snyder’s operation just met with her contact, and the report is fucked up.”

I frowned and leaned forward, placing my elbows on my knees with my arms hanging between my legs. “I thought my dad was handling that shit.”

My father, Carlo De Angelis, was the Capo di Provincia of the Florida branch, where I’d grown up—which was why Rafa and I hadn’t become more than acquaintances until college. Although I was the oldest, I’d never had any ambitions to lead a territory. When Rafa asked me to be his personal bodyguard, and eventually his head of security, it had been the perfect fit. My brother, Leo, who was currently Rafa’s captain—overseeing the crew—was being groomed to take over for our father someday.

“It’s become more complicated. Douglas is still in a rage over losing Opal. It seems he was more than a little obsessed with her. Which answers our question as to why he was willing to enter into an alliance with Oswald’s group.”

“And now he’s gunning for us?” I asked incredulously. Could he really be that suicidal?

Rafa shoved up from his chair and stalked over to one of the large windows overlooking the garden. “In a roundabout way, I think that’s his endgame. He’s threatening to decimate Oswald’s operation, then skin him alive and hang his carcass on a fucking flagpole.”

“You know he’s not being hyperbolic, right?” I muttered, my voice dripping with disgust.

Rafa nodded, his eyes blazing with fury. “He’s a sadistic motherfucker. No way in hell was I going to let any woman besubjected to his twisted shit. Even if it means we’re at war with his syndicate. But he’s tomorrow’s problem.”

I got to my feet and wandered over to stand next to my friend. “How so?”

“Douglas has Oswald flipping his shit, and he’s grasping at straws to keep his place and stay alive. Unfortunately for us, one of those straws just happens to be the truth.”

My brow furrowed as I absorbed his words. “He thinks Opal is alive?”

“Somehow, he found out that she met with Gabriella the morning she went missing.”

“Merda,” I swore, shoving my hands through my hair.

“He did some digging, found out about the Hounds and convinced Douglas that we faked her kidnapping and murder.”

“How the fuck…” I trailed off, speechless for a moment. The odds of Oswald latching onto a theory that just happened to be the truth were unbelievably low.

“I truly think he’s running on pure speculation, but we need to know for sure.”

Rafa’s phone pinged, and he strolled back over to his desk to pick it up and read the text.

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the wall on the side of the window. “And if he’s got proof?”

“Then we tie up the loose ends,” he answered, his tone every bit the ruthless leader people called The King of the South.

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