Page 26 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
Cazzo.
If the sight of that woman in a red silk fuckingslipwasn’t enough to make me itchy and irritable, then the sheer balls on her could make me feverish.
I saw the mug out the corner of my eye the second she walked into the room. It’s as if our bodies are connected through heat. Whenever she comes within a few feet of me, my skin burns. I felt it in the bar, then again in the church, and I felt it just now as she entered the room.
Part of me wanted to crack up laughing at her little joke, because thenerveit takes to serve something like that to a Di Santo ... But I’m here representing my brother, thedon, and it won’t do to find practical jokes amusing.
“As Savero has said, this alliance will be beneficial in many ways ...”
I turn my attention back to her father, though my gaze wants to remain on the door she just disappeared through. “How so?”
“Not only will it strengthen our defenses at the port and open up opportunities for a broader variety of shipments ...”
Well put.
I’ve been under the impression Tony Castellano doesn’t have much say in this “alliance,” but it seems he’s just as on board with it as my brother is. Either that or he’s putting on a damn good show. I suppose there’s nothing like opportunistic butchery to incentivize loyalty.
“... it will also mean we can join forces against some of our common enemies, such as the Marchesis.”
My eyes narrow. “What do you have against the Marchesis?”
Tony pauses, and grief floods through me. I know that pause.
“They killed my wife, the mother of my four girls. Right in front of Trilby.”
I suck in a ragged breath as pieces of a puzzle fall into place. I knew I’d heard his daughter’s name somewhere before. “Fuck,” I say softly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
The temptation to kick myself is real. I haven’t forgotten the bartender’s explanation of why Tony’s eldest daughter only ventures out drinking once a year, but it never occurred to me her mother might have been murdered, and I never would havedreamedshe was at the scene when it happened.
My stomach twists into a guilty knot. We’re not so different, the Castellano girl and me, after all. I lost my mother at seventeen, ten years ago; she lost hers at fifteen, five years ago. Both our moms were killed by the Marchesis. The biggest difference between us is that I was allowed to leave the Cosa Nostra, while she’s about to be swallowed up by it whole.
“Appreciate it.” Tony sighs tightly. “They were sending a message.”
I rarely use the gun in my waistband—I carry it out of habit more than anything—but right now it’s warming my back, making its presence known.
“What kind of message?” I ask.
“They didn’t like that I was working with your father. They offered me bigger contracts, greater profits, but I refused to work with them.”
“Why?”
Tony turns to me, and the emotion in his features is genuine. “I respected your father. I know a lot of what he did was below the law, but at least he did it with integrity. He had principles, and that’s hard to find in anyone these days.”
Sadness curls a fist around my heart. Since finding out about my father’s passing, I haven’t given myself a moment to grieve—but it will come, along with a barrage of guilt for having fled so young and stayed away for so long.
Tony exhales heavily. “With the opportunities my port can offer and the partnerships your brother is looking to develop, we may be able to drive the Marchesis out of New York altogether.”
Although I don’t always agree with my brother’s approach, the blood in my veins runs hot. “I agree.”
Tony stops and looks at me. “Are you back in the family? I know your father hoped you’d return.”
“No, I’m not. And I’m only staying a short while, then I’m heading back to Vegas.”
“It’s a shame,” Tony says. “I like you.”
I smile. “You should probably keep that to yourself.”
“Ah, who fucking cares? We’re in business now.”
