Page 124 of Dangerous King
"Just to be clear, we're talking about Catalina?"
My answering growl is more than enough to confirm. Catalina Costa. The woman who makes everything make sense. The woman I will burn the world for.
"It's been a few months since I've talked to the others, let me put my feelers out and see where they stand. In the meantime, I suggest you postpone your wedding." Toni suggests.
I bristle, "Not happening, invitations were already sent," and then a little lower, "Yours is on the way."
"I'll need a plus one," Toni adds, then warns, "Be careful. Edoardo is a snake. He'll strike when you least expect it and against whom you least expect it to happen to."
I grip the wheel tighter. "You too. He's watching you. Especially with this Carlos business."
"Don't I know it."
"If you need anything…"
"I'm good, but thank you. And hey, congrats on the upcoming wedding."
"You'll be there, right?"
"I'll be there."
Good. I need all the support I can get.
"When is the wedding?" he asks.
"A couple of months. Why?"
"Just checking."
There's a pause. Then my tone shifts—lighter, playful.
"Don't forget to bring a gift," I say. "I'd love one of your choppers."
He laughs. "Those things cost ten million dollars apiece. That seems a bit over the top for a wedding gift."
"I always knew you were a cheap bastard."
"If anybody should get a gift, it's me, since I'm the one laundering your money."
And after a beat, "Not everyone can be as loaded as you."
I smirk. We might be a few million off, but our wealth is about the same. Hence, the standing joke between us. "You're flying in one of those choppers right now, aren't you?"
"You got the money, buy one."
"If I only had a cousin who makes these things and would give me a good deal," I mutter.
After about forty minutes, the city comes into view. Forty minutes for me to think coolly about the war I'm about to start. Like I said, my father won't like it, but enough is enough. It can't hurt to find out where the other capos stand on this, them and their heirs. I'm pretty sure Toni and I are not the only ones who are disgusted with our inexperienced Don. He's only in his early twenties, and in the past two years since hisreignbegan, we've all suffered some financial losses, and every single relationship between families—built over generations—has taken a hit. Toni's father's murder might have been the most extreme, but it isn't the only slap in the face the families have endured.
I reach the skyscraper where the meeting will be held. Bringing the Hummer into the underground parking garage is tricky. The entrance is purposefully narrow; it's meant to be a bottleneck just in case the skyscraper ever gets attacked. Mere inches separate my side mirrors from the wall. With a curse, Silvano rolls down the window and pulls the mirror in on his side, while I do the same on mine. Dank, dead air enters the Hummer. It reminds me of a grave, but it makes it easier to navigate the car.
"You could have called Tonibeforewe left, and we could have ridden with the others in one of the limos," Silvano complains, letting go of the mirror as soon as we're out of the narrow passage.
"Snob," I accuse him. And he is. He much prefers limo rides to my Hummer.
"I didn't feel like seeing my family this morning," I confess. Going behind my father's back irks me. And I don't want to involve my brothers, yet. So, staying away seemed to be the prudent thing to do.
The tires of the Hummer crunch against the concrete as we descend into the underground parking garage of the Zanello Tower. My nerves are steady, but the tension in my jaw reveals how I'm feeling. Silvano doesn't say anything at first. He knows better than to break the silence before I'm ready, but eventually, he does what he does best: make observations I don't want to hear but need to.
