“I hear you are the lucky one that survived,” I greeted him. The coward didn’t know whether to look at Alexei or me. “Let me introduce myself. Nico Morrelli and guess what, you piece of trash?”
“W-what?”
He reeked of fear and piss.
“You stepped foot on my territory without my permission.” I pointed the gun between his eyes. “And stole my shipment.”
“It wasn’t me,” he pleaded. “It wasn’t us. It was Benito. And Marco.”
I was surprised to hear that coward son of his actually dared to venture out.
One and the same. “But you worked with him. Didn’t you?”
“We don’t want your territory,” he rattled. “Or the shipment. Just the girl.”
He better not be thinking of my girl.
“Who iswe?” I wanted no misunderstandings when I started killing these assholes.
“Vladimir Solonik’s men.”
“And who’s the girl?”
“Bianca Carter.”
“Ahhh, wrong motherfucker,” I gritted, barely holding back my rage. “It is Bianca Morrelli, my wife.”
His eyes widened, I was sure they’d bulge out of his head and we’d find eyeballs rolling around our feet.
“Benito said it is Bianca Carter.”
“I guess you didn’t get the memo,” I told him.
He shook his head. “Benito promised the girl to Solonik ten months ago. She is part of the arrangement.”
This guy was a joke.
“What arrangement?”
“The belles’ arrangement.”Not this shit again.Though somehow, I wasn’t surprised. Alexei and I shared a look.
“Go on,” Alexei urged him in Russian, hoping to put him at ease. I suspected I already knew; it had been nagging at me ever since I learned about her grandfather’s gambling debt.
“The Catalano family signed an agreement for three generations of belles. Every other generation of a female descendant of the Catalano family from the coast of Amalfi. Benito swapped the generation of Bianca Carter for her mother. But that’s not fair. It should be two more generations owed. Vladimir wanted Bianca. The Solonik family counted on that coastline. It came with the wife of a Catalano descendant.”
Or a daughter.
“And Bianca Carter-” he quickly corrected himself, “... Bianca Morrelli owns property on the Amalfi coast. Her mother had it transferred into her name.”
Fuck. Me.
Did the fucking entire underworld know this?
I’d stake my life that Benito wouldn’t attend the Ambassador’s gala. I just handed him the gateway to the coastline. He wanted Vladimir to be caught, so he could renege on the agreement.
Fuck!
Did my hunger for revenge blind me, or was it the craving to make Bianca for my own?