Page 35 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
Cristiano drops the phones on his desk. “He has a point.”
“What other enemies do you have beside the Marchesi’s?” Nicolò asks.
Cristiano smirks. “How long have you got?”
I slump back in the chair and cross an ankle over my other knee. “I’ll find out who it was sooner or later. I’ve got some feds on it.”
Nicolò’s eyes narrow. “You don’t seem too concerned, Benny. I’d be knocking down doors and threatening lives if someone burned down my house.”
I don’t like my conviction being questioned. “Yeah, well you don’t need to worry about that, do you? Still living at home with your mama.”
“Ouch.” Cristiano shakes his head.
“Fuck you Benny. Just means I have more money to spend on women,” he replies with a sneer.
“You mean shoes,” I counter, glancing down at what appears to be another new pair of Saint Lauren Derby’s on his feet.
Cristiano pushes the phones across the desk. “To replace the burner you crushed.”
He glances sideways out of his window to the terrace—the sun is beating down and I expect his fiancée is enjoying the pool. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I have a feeling you’ll need several.”
I frown at his comment. It’s not like I crush burners between my fingers on a regular basis. “Thanks.”
“So, what do we know about Fury’s successor?” Nicolò probes. “Did your mole have any insights on that front?”
Cristiano sits back and watches me as he rubs two fingers back and forth across his lips.
I uncross my legs, lean forward and rest my forearms on my knees, looking both of them directly in the eye. “It hasn’t been announced yet, but Bigelow seems to think Fury’s nephews are in the running to take over the clan.”
“Nephews?” Nicolò squints. “As in plural?”
I turn to him. “Yeah. Three. Lorenzo, Matteo and Luca. Lorenzo’s the eldest and the one with the more… shall we say…colorfulhistory.”
“Meaning?” Cristiano rests his elbows on his desk.
“He was made at thirteen and killed his first capo six months later. Hasn’t stopped since. His brothers took a little longer to warm up. They’re power hungry but not much between the eyes. They get off on eliminating people—the bloodier the better—as opposed to building longstanding relationships that might ultimately give them control of a city.”
“So they’re loose cannons?” Cristiano rests his chin on two pointed fingers, brows raised.
“Yeah. At the very least.”
“So, what’s your recommendation Benny? Where’s their preferred heartland? Do we strengthen our numbers in Newark?”
I consider his question. “We could definitely strengthen our numbers there. Losing Newark to us was the biggest blow they’ve suffered in years—there’s always a chance they’ll try to take it back. But, last I heard, Fury wanted to focus his efforts on Connecticut. Maybe we let ‘em have it for now while we get a feel for the new don.”
“Ordons.” There’s a warning note in Nicolò’s words.
Cristiano nods slowly. “Fine. Let’s lay low and keep a watching brief. Get some more men in Jersey.”
I click my tongue. “Consider it done.”
Leaving Nicolò in Cristiano’s office I head outside to make a few calls. As I reach the exit to the terrace, Contessa Castellano appears in the doorway. I didn’t know she was here, so I’m not prepared for the sight of her creamy white body pouring out of a tiny black two-piece and barely-there sarong, full lips parted in surprise, nor the way her eyes widen as she processes the fact I’m blocking her entrance.
Heated annoyance fills out my chest. There are men in the house and she’s dressed likethis?
“Don’t you have any clothes?” I snap.
She sucks in a breath through those plump, pink lips, annoying me even more.
