Page 27 of Unhinged Little Angel

“What about him?” I ask, resting my elbows on the table and tapping the screen to scan through the photos. Pictures of Cian coming and going from Declan’s place, meeting with otherknown members of the Fitzpatrick organization, and general surveillance.

“He showed up at Declan’s a couple of weeks ago, clearly staying there, so I dug into him a little deeper,” he explains.

Alessio smirks. “Were you worried he was Declan’s boyfriend?”

Enzo’s only response is a deadly look that would have anyone else shitting themselves.

“If Declan is the brains of the family, Cian is the balls.” Enzo goes on as if Les didn’t interrupt at all. “It turns out he just got out of prison. He did ten years for a series of assaults. They tried to tie him to several car bombings, but the witness refused to testify at the last minute, and they ended up having to drop the charges.”

I whistle and lean back in my seat.

“So he’s a bit of a wildcard, is that it?”

“That might be all he is,” Enzo agrees coolly. “But we’re teetering right on the edge of a war and Cian could be the spark that lights it. If he’s in his brother’s head, pushing Declan to act just as recklessly, things won’t end well for the Fitzpatricks.”

“So? Let’s go to war then and get those freckled fucks out of our business once and for all,” Alessio says flippantly.

Again, Lorenzo acts like Les hasn’t said a thing and just keeps talking. “Giovanni’s been watching Declan’s place, and he says Cian has a habit of slipping out at random times and disappearing for hours, sometimes late at night, sometimes gone for days. He might be up to something.”

“Or he might be a guy who just got out of prison going out to get laid,” Elio says with a shrug.

“Maybe,” Lorenzo concedes.

“Okay, so maybe you need to have a meeting with Declan, feel him out, see if his brother is stirring up any trouble orplanting the idea in his head to expand their territory into Wildcliff,” I suggest.

“No.” His answer is immediate, and his tone is so icy that a shiver runs down my spine. “If I sit down with him, I’ll have to admit I’m having him followed. Besides, I don’t need Declan thinking his brother, or anyone else in his ragtag family of petty criminals, has the power to make the Morettis nervous.”

“What if I tail Cian when he’s away from Declan’s place and see if I can find a way to casually run into him?” Xaviaro suggests.

Lorenzo picks up the glass of whiskey in front of himself and swirls it silently for a moment, his brow furrowed with thought and his fingers drumming against the table.

“Alright, let’s give that a shot. But I don’t want you to tell him who you are, just find out where he’s going and if there’s an opportunity to run into him and strike up a casual conversation to get a sense of what he’s all about, then do that.”

Xaviaro nods.

“Glad I hauled ass all the way back from Los Vespar for this,” I mutter.

“I need you to meet with every one of your guys, find out if anyone has been getting friendly with the Fitzpatricks,” Lorenzo says. “That goes for you too, Les.”

“You got it, boss.” Alessio gives a flippant little salute, but we both know he’s going to give each and every one of his soldiers a rectal exam if he has to, to ensure their loyalty to The Family.

“I’ll get started on that first thing tomorrow,” I assure him, pushing my chair back and making a move to stand. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home to my hus—”

“You boys need any refills?”

I whip around at the sound of the familiar voice over the sultry bass of the music.

An hour ago, I left Dante safely in my apartment. In hindsight, the fact that he didn’t argue or sass me about having to run out to a meeting and leave him at home should’ve been a red flag. He’s wearing the same red lipstick I bought in Los Vespar for him, and a pair of silk panties paired with one of my white dress shirts, unbuttoned with nothing underneath. That primal, possessive feeling pounds at my chest again.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes, but a little smile twitches at the corners of his lush lips.

“Taking drink orders, sweetness.”

DANTE

Salvatore’s expression wars between amusement and something stern that absolutely doesn’t make my dick hard.

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