Page 71 of Only Fools Rush
“She’ll be back soon,” he added. Was he comforting me? Or himself? Our phones dinged and we both glanced down to read the message. “Looks like the meeting was successful.”
Despite my anxiety, my chest swelled with pride. Of course, it was successful. “Leona always gets what she wants.”
“Now it’s our turn.”
He was right. Leona did her job, now we had to do ours. Since I’d failed to kill Max at the Tommaso estate, I’d been looking for a way to make up for it—and this was it. We needed an army, people on the ground to fight back, take territory, and make money if we wanted any chance of winning this war. Wynn and I couldn’t afford to fuck this up.
I studied him from the corner of my eye. The first time we met, he seemed like if someone even so much as flicked him, he’d freak the fuck out. He had been tense. Tight. These days, he seemed lighter.
Leona had told me before that the more she got to know each of the Shadows, the more layers she found beneath them. Maybe she was right.
A car turned down the road and parked a few spots from the coffee shop. Giulio hopped out, and I jerked my head in his direction. “He’s here.”
“No one else in the car,” Wynn confirmed. We stepped out of our vehicle—a fucking armored SUV they kept stored in the parking garage beneath the penthouse—and followed Giulio.
“I have eyes on you,” Ciel said in our earpieces. He had decided to stay back at the penthouse this time around, but that was fine. We didn’t expect a fight, and if we ran into something, we’d agreed to run. “I’ll watch the streets for anyone else approaching.”
Yeah, hopefully we weren’t walking into a massive trap. Giulio had been a good man. We were taking a chance by trusting him.
“Thanks, Ciel,” Wynn said before turning to me. “You remember the escape routes?”
I nodded as he grabbed the doorhandle and pulled. Giulio’s eyes locked on us as soon as we entered the shop. He stood from his spot at a small table, tucking his gloves into his coat pocket.
“Caspian, sir,” he said before extending his hand. I was younger than him by a few years, and even though I was Leona’s full-time bodyguard, I still acted as acapowithin the Family.
I clasped it. “Giulio. How are you?”
“Fine, fine.” He gestured for us to sit. “I hate to ask this of you, sir, but are you wearing a wire?”
I exchanged a glance with Wynn. “We have communications established with one of our men.”
Giulio eyed the transmitter in my ear. “Any chance we can get rid of it?”
Wynn’s body went tense. “And why would you want that?”
“If any word got out that I was talking to you, Max would destroy me.” Giulio frowned. “You know that, Cas. I like myfingers attached to my hands, and my head attached to my body.”
Max and I had tortured plenty of traitors together. He started at the end of the body, working closer and closer to the heart, piece by piece. Traitors didn’t get second chances. Everyone in the Vero Family knew that.
“I don’t like it,” Ciel said in both our ears. “But I can still see you on the shitty little security cam in the corner. No audio, just video. I’ll try to figure out how to get a warning to you, if necessary.”
I nudged Wynn’s shoulder as I pulled the piece out of my ear. We needed to earn Giulio’s trust. If this was a gesture that would do it, it was worth the risk. Wynn’s eyes glinted like hard silver, but he did the same without complaint.
Once it was off, I briefly held it up and then tucked it into my pocket. “A gesture of trust, Giulio. So we can both speak freely.”
“Thank you, sir.” He sighed in relief before pulling a pack of cigarettes from his other pocket. “I was surprised to get your message.”
A shopkeeper came to our table, asking something in Russian. Giulio responded without a beat, though his accent sounded like shit, and he tripped over quite a few words. The woman walked away, scribbling something in her notebook.
“Ordered us a few coffees. Hope you don’t mind.”
“I didn’t know you spoke Russian,” I said.
“Un po’ di,”he replied in Italian while smacking the cigarette pack against his palm. “A little. I’m bad at it. My sister’s husband is Russian.”
I raised an eyebrow. How did we not know Giulio had connections to the Russians? He wasn’t high up in the Vero Family, but he was a made man. That should have raised lots of red flags.
He raised his hand. “Not in the Bratva, just an immigrant. I’ve picked some up over the years. Figured this place would keep us out of prying eyes.” He pulled a cig from the pack. “Don Vero approved the marriage. Everything was above board.”
