Page 28 of Mafiosa
‘Yeah, I’m OK,’ I said, trying to sound modest. Luca hadn’t come home the night before, so Nic and I had managed to squeeze in another session out in the barn. ‘I’m a quick learner.’
‘It’s obviously in your blood,’ Valentino said.
‘Must be.’Dimples and marksmanship. Thanks, Dad.
Valentino flipped the subject. ‘You went walkabout yesterday.’
‘I was having a ceremony for my mother.’
He clamped the pencil in his fist. ‘Don’t do that again.’
‘In my experience you can only scatter ashes to the wind once. They’re very hard to collect after that.’
‘Do you think you’re funny?’
‘With the right audience.’ My heart was hammering in my chest.
‘I don’t enjoy sarcasm,’ he said pointedly. ‘Just so you’re aware.’
Well, then, you are not going to enjoy me very much.‘Right,’ I said, shifting again in my seat. The leather was cold on my hands. I tucked them under my legs to keep them warm. ‘Is that why I’m here? Because of yesterday?’ I studied his reaction – that stony impassivity. Did he know that my dad had been there? That we had spoken? How much had Luca said to him?
Valentino shook his head. ‘I thought it would be best to get that little matter of housekeeping out of the way first. Don’t go walkabout again without telling us first. It’s a drastic waste of time and manpower, and given that we’re in the middle of a blood war, I’m sure you can see how unfathomably stupid it was.’ He pinned me with those sapphire eyes, and then pulled his lips back a fraction, so I could see a hint of his canines. ‘Can’t you?’
Relief flittered like a bird inside me. So Luca hadn’t said a thing. Man, that guy was a vault. A vault I would have to thank whenever he resurfaced. ‘It won’t happen again.’
Valentino pulled the drawer of his desk open and took out a single sheet of paper. ‘Now we can proceed to more important matters.’ He dropped the sheet between us, and slid it across his desk so that it was facing me. I pulled my hands from underneath me and scooted forward.
Oh.
It wasn’t a slip of paper, it was a photograph.
An eerily familiar photograph.
Oh.
‘This,’ he said, pressing his index finger across it, ‘is LiberoMarino, the son of Donata Marino.’
I stared at the photograph of Libero Marino. He had those wide, dark eyes. His head was shaved in the photo, but he had a thick black goatee, and an unsightly scar right across the bridge of his nose. He didn’t seem like someone who was used to smiling. I imagined all his teeth, if he bared them, would be gold.
My throat felt like it was about to close up.
‘That’s Sara’s brother,’ I said, without taking my eyes off the photo. Underneath, a few details had been scribbled in. His height:5’8”, his age:22 years old. His skills:knife and hand-to-hand combat, and his ranking:Marino capo, son of Donata Marino.
Valentino nodded. ‘He’s back in the city now, trading with clients on Donata’s behalf.’
I lifted my gaze, and tried to swallow the waver in my voice that was about to give away my sudden onslaught of nerves. ‘Is he… is he my target?’
Valentino had steepled his hands in front of him, fingers touching against his lips, hiding his mouth. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Libero Marino is your target.’
I tried to ignore the sudden roaring in my ears. Libero Marino was Sara’s brother. One of Jack’s right-hand men. Why had I thought it would be someone I didn’t know? Why had I thought it would be easier than this? The Marinos were my blood – well, most of them – so of course I would likely know my target. ‘When?’ I asked, the faintest flutter in my lashes.
‘Saturday night.’
Five days. I had five days to prepare.
Did Luca know? Would he try to stop it? Had he finally given in to the idea of me taking control of my own destiny?
I forced myself to answer, ignoring the desert in my throat. ‘OK.’
