Page 67 of Primo DeLuca

Chapter Twenty-five

Primo

Pride raced through me. Although my overall demeanor was usually set on “asshole,” the men, for the most part, made my job as Capo an easy one. They pulled their weight, handled their business, and today they’d worked their asses off. With Aurelio’s help, they managed to wrangle up the last of the hitmen hired by the Vittorio family who had foolishly taken on the task to take my life.

Three lay at our feet, their blood-drenched bodies in a heap while we discussed the best approach to improving our productivity and distribution efforts. Today was our normal meeting day, and despite the obvious need to expel our enemies, we had carved out some time to address business and operational concerns.

There was one problem we hadn’t solved. We still didn’t know how to kill the person who had initiated this blood-fueled quest to kill me for reasons we still weren’t crystal clear on.

We discovered the identity of the DeLuca responsible for initiating the hit on me and the one responsible for the death of six of my men. The person was virtually untouchable based on our own rules. There were many suggestions and discussions on how to get away with the person’s murder without breaking a cardinal DeLuca rule.

Poison and accidental death scenarios were tossed around, and even the idea of us setting up our own DeLuca prison. At the mention of a prison, Romigi glanced at me with a smile in his gaze.

Orlando’s suggestion about distribution techniques dragged me back to the current topic of discussion. I shrugged when he kept his eyes on me, waiting for a response.

“I don’t believe we need to add any additional hands or man-hours to our operations. If we include one more rotation versus our usual three, it may work to our benefit.”

The elongated squeak of the front door sounded before it popped open. The unexpected use of that particular door caused weapons to be drawn. We usually entered through the side or back doors, and only the company we invited used the front door.

My face tightened into a ball of concern when Nevah came stumbling through the door. Her clothing was disheveled, discernible bruises decorated her neck and arms, and her normally well-maintained hair sprung up from multiple areas and fell from her high ponytail like she’d been inside a wind tunnel. I was at her side so fast I couldn’t even recall how I got there.

“What happened?” I questioned, holding her shoulders while her wild-eyed glance met my searching gaze with a glint in their untamed depths I couldn’t decipher. She smelled like she’d bathed in bleach and I didn’t miss that she’d flinched at my touch.

“Are we still good? Me and you?”

I nodded.

“We were never bad. Is everything alright? What happened to you?”

“Good,” she replied before she released what appeared to be a big breath of relief.

She aimed a finger at my guys, most standing in wide-eyed anticipation and no doubt wondering why the only woman I publicly claimed had shown up here. This was the second DeLuca meeting that Nevah had crashed, and like the first time, the men were expecting an explanation.

“Can I talk to everyone? I have a confession I need to make before I lose my nerve and change my mind.”

Lowering my tone, I asked, “What kind of confession?”

She didn’t answer but returned a look of defiance, or was it determination?

I eased back, putting space between us. I already felt bad about sending Aurelio to question her. But, he had put my mind at ease and had even given me a compliment for finding a good woman.

My aim now was to respect Nevah and there was no better way to do that than start with honoring her current request. I ushered my hand towards the men to open the floor for her to address them.

The act of me allowing her to speak would make a statement I didn’t like, but I forced myself to accept a truth I was skirting. She was the only force in my life that I couldn’t command in the ways that I was used to. Besides, she hadn’t asked for this life, and whatever fresh hell she had been through tonight was assuredly brought on in the name of DeLuca.

She smoothed her hair down and straightened her clothing as best she could before she sucked in a deep, shaky breath that closed her eyes. She stepped away and approached the group of fifteen, who gave their undivided attention.

“I know you guys don’t know me well. Some of you have only seen my face a few times. I’m a stranger, an outsider, but I know the codes of the streets. I know them well because I grew up in The Grind, in theSunset Heights housing projects.”

The guys peered at each other with multiple levels of interest, some with their eyebrows lifting high on their foreheads. They were just now realizing what I picked up on the first time I met Nevah. Her statement regarding her background was enough to prove that she wasn’t a distressed damsel but a woman raised in an environment that matched our inherently savage nature.

“The streets raised me, and they didn’t take it easy on me because I was a girl. They insisted on me being smart, loyal, honest, and strong.” She paused, swallowing and gathering her thoughts. “Tonight, when I stepped into my hotel suite, there was someone there waiting for me. That person threatened my life with a gun. They wanted me dead so that they could get to Primo.”

She placed her hand over her heart. Tears glistened in her eyes but didn’t fall.

“I love him, and I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t give that person what they wanted.”

All of the sound was sucked from the room. The constant noises of machines being operated from surrounding warehouses that usually seeped into ours had stopped. The slush of the river crashing against the dock was silenced. Even the whistling wind that howled at the old dusty windows high on the walls surrounding the warehouse had stopped.

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