Page 53 of He Should Be Mine
I’m already rich enough to buy him anything he wants. So Enzo’s request is something I can live with.
“Tell your boss he has a deal,” I say.
Nicolo flashes a quick boyish grin before schooling his expression into something more somber. It makes me want to chuckle.
Carlo cracks his neck. “So now that’s all agreed, how are we going to get rid of the little twat?”
The question is blunt, and perfectly in character. The kind of thing Carlo can toss out like a cigarette butt. But I don’t answer immediately. My mind stalls, just for a second, as something tight coils in my chest.
Dante’s voice comes first, calm and cold. “We do it slow.”
I nod, trying to focus. “Go on.”
“He’s arrogant,” Dante says. “Which makes him sloppy. He doesn’t believe anyone would dare move against him. That gives us space to act.”
Carlo leans forward, tapping ash into the tray. “We can’t go in loud. Not yet. He’s still protected. By people, by fear, by the secrets he’s buried. If he bleeds too early, there’ll be panic. Retaliation. It has to be precise.”
Nicolo, quieter than the others but just as sharp, adds, “We isolate him. Undermine his base. If people think he’s vulnerable, they’ll jump ship. Some of them already want to.”
“Divide and conquer,” I murmur.
The fact that Riccardo’s own father wants me to spy on him, is a card I’m keeping close to my chest for now. It’s anopen avenue for feeding misinformation. Once the Don turns against him, Riccardo will be gone.
Carlo nods. “Exactly. Start with his associates. Peel them off one by one.”
“I can help with that,” Dante offers. “Give me names. I’ll find the cracks. Addictions, debts, girlfriends in the wrong places. Everyone’s got a weak point.”
I nod again, more firmly this time. “I’ll get you the list.”
I have it already. Watching Riccardo has always been part of the job, but I’d have done it anyway. I memorized his rhythms, catalogued his vices, mapped his entire orbit. I’ve spent the last few months stuck in the apartment with Molly, but before that, I watched Riccardo’s operation up close. Being a silent shadow, always in the background.
Now I’m a silent shadow while Molly twirls around him in pretty clothes and practiced moves. I’ve been watching and watching. All while pretending I didn’t mind seeing Molly pour him drinks with fake smiles and soft words, or that every time Riccardo touched him, I wanted to snap his fingers off.
Carlo sips his whisky. “After that, we go for his money. Enzo’s got contacts that can cause some friction. Small setbacks. Audits. Enough to make his confidence crack.”
Nicolo nods. “We’ll take care of it. Just give the word.”
Isabella could definitely help crack Riccardo’s confidence. She could unnerve him in all sorts of ways. Cause him to fumble and make mistakes. And I think she’ll be willing to. But that’s another secret I’m not sharing. Secrets are power and I need everything I can get.
“We don’t want finesse in the end,” Dante says. “We want blood.”
There’s a beat of silence. The finality in his tone echoes like a bell. I glance down at my glass, but I’m no longer drinking. My hand’s resting on the table. Tight. Still.
Because I’m thinking of Molly. Again. As always.
All I can see is Molly.
His soft, cautious smile. The faint purple bruises under his skin, too fresh, too raw. The way his voice trembled when he laughed this morning, trying to pretend everything was fine. That Riccardo’s latest visit was nothing to worry about. The way he tried not to flinch when I reached past him for the butter knife.
I rub a hand over my face. I feel frayed, like I’ve just promised away parts of myself I might not get back. Like this whole thing, this betrayal, this coup, is going to cost more than blood and whiskey.
It’s going to cost time. It’s going to cost attention.
It’s going to cost mehim.
How many days will I be too distracted to see when Riccardo gets tired of Molly’s mouth? How many nights will I leave him alone behind locked doors while I court monsters like Dante and Carlo?
He’ll smile and tell me it’s okay. He always does.
