Page 40 of Devotion

“And what about this?” I hold up the knife as we drive across town back to base.

“Reminds me of legends my great-uncle Giancarlo used to tell us.”

I nod, watching the city sweep by. “Old World.”

“Exactly. Like older than the Camorra. Maybe as old as the Yakuza.”

“Holy shitballs.” Matvey wonders, sighing through a wide-eyed smile. Of course he would be excited to be part of a gang war with an ancient group of killers.

“Do not get hopes up. We will leave this to elders to discuss. They will know what to do, and heads of Bratvas will have more information.”

“So we report in and then what? Just go to bed?”

“Then go do whatever you want. I have plans,” I say dismissively.

Because I need to unwind. To drink, dance.

Maybe even find a distraction from these constant thoughts about Ciro’s hands exploring my body. And I know just the place to find all of the above.

7

CIRO

“Speak only fact. Keep it short. To the point,da?”

“Who do I look like?” I raise an eyebrow, smirking.

“Jackass. Pretend you are not you for a moment,” Vanya says almost at a whisper.

She went in first thing when we got here, spent thirty minutes in the conference room with five grizzly looking dudes, including Pyotr. I am not excited for this dressing down.

Or maybe they’ll just give me a pat on the back and I can go have ice cream.

The look on Matvey’s face as we waited for our turns has me a little skeptical.

“Shakal. Come.”

Pyotr sits in the center, obviously leading the council. The others could be straight out of Bond films, except for the one guy to my left. I sort of wanna drop him off the top of a building in Nakatomi Plaza.

“Gentlemen. Ciro Diamante, at your service.” I grin, wondering if I should bow.

“You will speak when spoken to, Italian interloper,” a guy who just has to be named Boris growls, clenching his fists. Must be grumpy because he’s a Soviet double agent. Or because his chin and his nose have matching butts.

“Ach, don’t mind him, Shakal. We have heard good things about you. But maybe keep your mouth shut,” adds the Captain Ramius look-alike, showing just a hint of a smile.

“Vanya and Matvey have already filled us in on the details of the smugglers, the shooters.”

Pyotr raises a hand for something like order. The final member only sneers at me like he wants to take over Air Force One, keeping his comments to himself.

Looking awkwardly at the scowling menace with double ass-face, I raise my thumb and smile as awkwardly as humanly possible. Mom always said I was her handsome boy.

Pyotr frowns.

I think he’d get along with Adriano and Alessandro. They both always made the same face at me. Like all the time for no reason.

After another few seconds of extremely comfortable silence, I clear my throat.

“Am I supposed to say or do something?” I finally choke out, unable to hold it in any longer.

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