Page 78 of Sicilian Sunset

I throw the keys to the Ferrari to a soldier who’ll take it home and get into the SUV. When we arrive at our meeting point close to Molinaro’s mansion, there’s a flurry of activity.

Not what I expected.

My men had instructions to wait for my command. Annoyed, I exit the car as Marcelo, one of my capos, approaches.

“We were attacked as soon as arrived. We took most of them out, but there might still be some in the house. Molinaro isn’t here. I found out he left three hours ago. Someone tipped him off. Lorenzo and Alfio got hit, but should be okay. They’re on the way to the doctor,” he says, bringing me up to speed.

Heat flushes through my body, and it’s not the kind Ella inspired. Anger, hot as Mount Etna’s lava, is boiling up in me.

“Cazzo bastardo,” I spit out through gritted teeth.

That fucking bastard. What a coward, running away like a little girl.

“Find out from whoever is still alive where he’s gone and then burn everything down. Leave no witnesses and nothing standing.”

Santino and I get back into the cars, leaving Marcelo to carry out my orders. I’m fuming, no closer to a resolution. My body is tense, and I itch to hit something. Maybe I should have stayed back and let out my frustrations on one of Molinaro’s goons.

He knew we were coming for him.

Fuck!

“Santino, find whoever tipped Molinaro off and bring him to me. It’s time to remind all of our guys what happens if they betray me.”

I can’t afford a mole in my midst, especially not now, with Ella in the picture. If indeed I have a spy in my camp, Molinaro will know how much time I’ve spent with her and how besotted I am.

I need to find a way to keep her by my side. Only then will I be able to relax.

I call Alonso to check in on my angel. He assures me all is well at the hotel, and that she’s safely tucked away in her room.

“Get extra guys to watch all entries and exits and have somebody stationed in the lobby. Remove anybody suspicious,” I instruct. The sooner I can move her in with me, the better.

Next I dial Mateo’s number. He answers on the first ring.

“Molinaro wasn’t there,” I say without greeting.

“What the fuck? Was the bastard lying this morning? Too bad you killed him already.”

“No. Someone tipped Molinaro off.”

“What?!”

“We’ve got a fucking mole,” I seethe.

The other end of the line erupts in swearing.

“Have you made any leeway in Tuscany?” I ask.

“The shipment has arrived safely. But everybody is tight-lipped. Something is off.”

“Then make them talk.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

“How come you answered your phone right away? I thought you’d be balls-deep in the little redhead.”

“I was waiting for your call.”

“Rather than fucking? You’re bored already?”

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