Page 16 of Saving Mr. Norcross
“Sorry, I have no idea who your nephew is.”
The old man was quiet a moment. “My nephew is Tommaso Messina.”
Tommy. That little punk. “Your nephew is a cocky, entitled, lazy shit. I warned him, and he ignored it.”
The shorter thug stepped forward and landed a fist in Vander’s gut. Gritting his teeth, air hissed out of him and his body swung.
“Don’t insult the don’s family,” the man gritted out.
“Tommaso is spoiled,” the older man conceded. “He’s my sister’s son. But he wants to learn the business.” The man’s tone lowered. “I won’t let anyone disrespect my family.”
“Tommy wants money for fancy suits, fast cars, and women.” Vander met the man’s gaze head on. “He sold drugs to kids, using kids. I won’t stand for that.”
The old man’s head cocked.
Ah, Tommy hadn’t shared everything with his uncle back in the old country.
“Respect is earned and Tommy hasn’t earned anything. He expects everything to be given to him, Navarro.”
“You know who I am.”
“I know. I always do my homework.” Vander lowered his voice. “But apparently you don’t know who I am.”
The taller thug stepped forward and landed a punch to Vander’s kidney.
Vander bit back a growl.
“Alfonso, enough.” Navarro eyed Vander some more. “The blood of my enemies has flowed across the floor. Don’t give me a reason for yours to join it.”
“Then let us go.”
“Not yet.”
“Boss, you want us to work them over?” the shorter guard asked.
“Not yet. Let them hang. They aren’t going anywhere.”
The guard’s face twisted with disappointment.
Navarro swiveled and walked out. The thugs reluctantly followed, and the door clanged shut behind them.
“What just happened?” Rhys asked.
“Uncle Luciano just realized his nephew hasn’t told him the entire story. He’s going to gather more facts.”
And the longer Vander stayed here, the more likely his pregnant wife would charge into trouble.
“We need to find a way out of here. Now.”
She parkeddown the road from the house and peered through the windshield. The house was typical Italian with terracotta tiles on the roof and shutters. There was a small yard with fruit trees and pretty flowers in pots by the front door. It was cute.
Brynn really hoped Justin Clarke was not taking kickbacks from the mafia.
Slipping out of the vehicle, she made sure to stick to the shadows. She entered the yard, and the scent of flowers hit her. Somewhere nearby, a dog barked.
She circled the house. Through a window, she spotted a couple in the kitchen. The man was sprawled in a chair at the table and looked American and ex-military. He had the same fit body and alert mannerisms she’d seen in her husband and his men. A curvy woman bustled around the kitchen in a long, blue maxi dress, with dark hair loose around her shoulders. She looked like a young Sophia Loren. She smiled at the man, and he slapped her ass playfully.
Brynn pulled out her Glock. She moved up the back steps and pulled in a breath.
