Page 38 of Luca
Hence, my unexpected visit to Italy.
My lips tugged up into a half-smile, reading the report of her hunting down a man who dared to steal from her. She certainly taught him a lesson.
My daughter would be in safe hands with her mother. But I’d always be a shadow watching over them.
I’d be heading for Sicily, as soon as I killed the second fucker who dared to steal from my woman.
My car turned into a warehouse lot outside Rome. I’d called in local help, meaning Nonno’s men. We found the fucker and now, he was quote - safe and sound - end quote, in the trunk of this car.
When the car stopped, I opened the door and stepped out. Guido, one of Nonno’s most trusted men, unlocked the trunk and yanked out the dude who looked like he’d been through a tornado. Crumpled, dirty clothes. Untrimmed hair. Bags under his eyes.
His eyes darted my way, glaring at me. “Do you know who I am?” he hissed.
“A nobody,” I drawled. “But you stole from somebody so let’s get to business. Shall we?”
His eyes darted between me and my men. “Marchetti won’t be happy to hear about this,” he growled.
I cocked my eyebrow, seemingly unfazed but an alert shot through me. Why was this asshole working for Marchetti?
I gave him a swift kick in the ribs.
“I didn’t know Marchetti lowered his standards and now steals from pregnant women,” I said coldly.
He wheezed, curling into a ball. If this was the quality of men Marchetti had surrounded himself with, I was surprised he was still alive.
“She’s not just any woman,” he grunted. “Marchetti wants her dead.”
I exchanged looks with the men. Margaret couldn’t have possibly done something to draw the attention of one of the most dangerous men in the world. Could she?
Guido grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. “Explain,” I demanded.
One thing I learned from Nonno was you never needed Marchetti’s attention on you. The question was what would have happened for Marchetti to be interested in Margaret.
“She violated the agreement,” he spat.
A bad feeling pooled in the pit of my stomach. Past ghosts were catching up. But then I kind of knew they eventually would, didn’t I?
“What. Agreement?” I gritted.
“Marchetti is not to step foot in Ireland and no Callahan can step foot in Italy.”
I snatched his hair and tilted his face up to meet mine. The truth was written on his face. In his eyes. Fuck!
Couldn’t anything be easy?
* * *
The iron gates slid open,revealing a long driveway lined with trees and a white marble palace at the end of it.
You’d think a king lived here, but no, it was only one of the most powerful men in the world.
Untouchable.
That was what my father called him for as long as I could remember.
The large estate stood behind acres and acres of land, which Marchetti owned too, on the outskirts of Rome. He preferred to stay here most of the time, although he had just as much of an extravagant home in the city. And many other places throughout the world.
“So you found yourdonna.” My woman. Yeah, that sounded right. Margaret Callahan was mine. If only she’d stop contradicting me at every goddamn turn.
