Page 92 of Ruthless Lord
Smoke curls lazily from the end of a lit cigar. Adriano sits shrouded in mist in the back room of an Italian place we own. Luca’s at the other side of the table, scowling at a half-eaten plate of pasta.
It’s good to see the bastard. Ever since he got married to Fiorella Serrano and got twisted up in that whole saga, he’s been busy as hell. Half his time is spent running the Serrano operations alongside his brother-in-law. The chop shops make a good profit, but I occasionally wish my old friend was more involved in the depot. But that’s what happens when you start a new family.
“How much do you believe all this?” Adriano asks. The young Don is shrewd and skeptical, but he knows power better than most and the lengths to which people will go to hold onto it. “I won’t say I don’t believe her?—”
“But that’s the implication,” I finish for him.
Don Marino shrugs. He gestures with the cigar. “I’m being pragmatic here. Our alliance with the Westbrooks has thepotential to be hugely profitable. But if that old fuck’s trying to backstab us?—”
“We don’t have proof yet,” Luca points out.
“Charlie’s sure he’s involved somehow. She doesn’t think her father would do all this on his own. Not unless it profited him somehow, and all he wants is to get on the old man’s good side.”
“Not that I doubt your wife—” Adriano starts, but he stops himself, eyebrows raised suggestively.
I have to take a beat to keep myself calm. Luca’s giving me a look like,keep it together. He knows I have a temper. Adriano wants honest and open opinions, especially when it’s only the three of us, but he won’t tolerate outright disrespect.
I trust my Don. He’s a good leader. Our family has grown more powerful and more profitable with him leading it. Adriano’s clever and strong, and I know he’ll make the right decision eventually, but he only sees the world through the lens of the Famiglia. He doesn’t know Charlie at all, and her word isn’t enough.
“We have to be sure.” I meet Adriano’s gaze steadily. “If the old man is involved in all this, we need to know it. Catching Charlie’s father won’t be enough. Her grandfather will still be out there looking to stab us in the fucking back.”
“And if that’s not the case?” Adriano puffs on the cigar.
“Then we clear him and move on. I take down her father, break his fucking spine, make him suffer a bit, and everyone goes home happy.”
“What a lovely story,” Luca says with a grin. “Life is so simple when you’re a hammer, right?”
“Everything’s a fucking nail.” I shrug and take a swig of good whiskey.
Adriano lets out a long breath. He glances at Luca, frowning. “What do you think?”
“I trust Stefano. If he trusts his wife, that’s enough for me.”
Don Marino nods sharply. “Alright. Do what you have to, Stefano, but tread carefully. Do not alienate the Westbrooks if you don’t have to. Make sure they’re traitors before doing anything.”
“I’m always a patient man.”
Luca laughs at that and clips a fresh cigar. “Here’s to patience then. We can all learn new skills in our old age.”
I arrive back homestinking like smoke. I could tell Adriano and Luca were both very skeptical, but I’ve been reliable enough in the past that they’re humoring me. That’s enough for now. They don’t need to be fully on board, so long as I have the freedom to do what needs doing.
The house smells good when I step inside. Someone’s been cooking. I’m guessing pasta, some kind of red sauce, and good wine. My stomach rumbles as I head into the kitchen.
Charlie’s at the stove. She’s in a short little dress with an apron over it, humming softly to herself. I stare as my wife lowers a thin breaded chicken cutlet into oil and fries both sides before moving it over to a plate.
I love the way she moves. Each gesture has purpose. Everything is economical. Short, precise, on target. Her mind’s a trap too, a sharpened blade, precise and cutting. I could spend my night standing here staring at her like this, eyes roaming her body. Except my stomach rumbles loud enough that she turns around and spots me.
Her eyes are wide before she breaks out in a big grin. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to get hungry.”
She laughs and gestures around her. “Chicken, salad, a little pasta, some homemade sauce. What do you think?”
“I think I had no clue my wife cooked.”
“I learned a thing or two over the years.”
I go to her, but I hesitate before putting a hand on her body. She nods slightly, giving me permission. I lean in and kiss her on the cheek.
