Page 132 of Celestial Combat

I cringed at the mention of Salvatore Moretti.He’d lied about Natalia’s birth mother cause of death when she was just a kid…. And it’s been messy since she found out a couple months ago.

Francesca blew out a breath. “Anyway. That means I’ll be stuck there with old men and no one under the age of forty. If you don’t come with me, I’ll die of boredom.”

Before I could answer, Zane spoke from beside me. “Not sure that’s the best idea.”

I turned to him. He looked serious, jaw tight, eyes scanning my face like he already knew I was going to push back.

“It’s a Cosa Nostra meeting,” he said. “With what’s been happening lately…”

I gave him the look. The one I knew he hated. Eyes a little wide. Innocent. Soft. It didn’t match who I was, which made it worse.

He exhaled sharply. Rubbed a hand down his face.

“Fine. But I’m sticking close.”

Francesca smirked. “Aw. Look at that. He’s already trained.”

Chapter 34

Present

Manhattan, New York City

THEDeMONE TOWER LOOMED LIKE something out of a dream – tall, cold, and ancient against the city sky.

I spotted Francesca across the ballroom near the back – leaning against a marble column with a flute of champagne in her hand. Her brothers were nearby but spread out like they were covering the room. I caught Tony’s eye. He nodded once.

Zane stood beside me like a shadow, in a black suit that fit like it had been made just for him. No tie. Collar open. His jaw was set. His eyes didn’t stop moving. Watching. Measuring. Protecting.

I wore a white fitted gown that clung to my shape and fell to the floor. And beneath the slit up my leg, against the inside of my thigh, my gun pressed cool and steady against my skin.

My parents knew I was here. Representing our family in this web of alliances. A Su standing among Cosa Nostra royalty.

The music lowered. Lights dimmed just slightly, just enough to shift the mood.

Enzo DeMone stood on a raised platform near the head table, glass in hand. His presence was calm, but there was weight in his voice.

“To the unity of the Five Families,” He said, raising his drink. “To loyalty, to blood, and to the strength of our allies.”

A wave of glasses lifted across the room. Soft murmurs. Smiles.

That’s when I saw him.

At the edge of the room. Near the far exit. A man in a waiter’s uniform – but too stiff. Too still. His eyes scanned the room, sharp and cold. He didn’t belong.

My gaze locked on him.

Enzo lifted his glass higher.

The waiter moved.

One hand to his side, lifting the gun from beneath his napkin.

Aimed at the Moretti table.

“Gun!” Someone shouted within the second.

Tony, who’d been standing next to their table, pushed forward and pulled Kim Moretti behind him, shielded her with his body.

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