Page 112 of Hot Momosa

“I want Mamma.” He looked at me and let out a cry that would have made banshees jealous.

Glaring at Marco, I crossed the room and picked him up.

“No!” He kicked and struggled to break free. “Nonni hold me.”

My mother, God love her, was on her feet and taking the frightened child from my arms in the blink of an eye. Murmuring sweet words to him in Italian, she pressed his head to her shoulder.

“This isn’t over.” I pointed at Marco. “If you won’t track Frankie down, I will.”

“Don’t step on my toes, big brother. I’m not going to warn you again.”

“Basta. Stop it. You’re upsetting the baby.” Ma hissed, rocked Gunnar, and gave me and Marco the evil eye. “Sciò.”

I hadn’t been shooed by my mother since I was a teenager. Quite frankly, it pissed me off. I turned all of my frustration, fear, and anger on my brother. “You heard her. Let’s go outside.”

Marco squared his shoulders, marched past me, and didn’t stop until he reached the exit.

I freaking hated following him like a dog. He might have been a capo in Sicily, but that didn’t mean shit in the States.

“What are you going to do about Julia or Frankie or whatever-the-fuck she’s calling herself?”

Marco drew a breath and exhaled slowly like he thought he was in yoga class instead of an ambulance bay. “First off, keep your voice down or we’ll be swarmed with reporters. Second, I am not going to do anything until I figure out what the hell is going on with Dante.”

“Why?” I’d expected him to say something about speaking to the other ruling families or following some bullshit protocol. “He has a crush on her, so what?”

“Dante doesn’t do crushes. He falls hard.” Marco glanced away. “If he cares about her half as much as I think he does, it will crush him if she’s responsible for the shooting.”

“Enzo’s on an operating table, but you’re siding with the one with a broken heart?” I couldn’t believe him. This was the kind of leadership the family had in Sicily?

“No, I’m choosing to proceed with caution.” He glared. “As I said before, Dahlia’s father complicates matters. Plus, there are rules about how we treat women.”

“If Frankie had something to do with the shooting, she should be treated no different than a man.” Even as I said the words, I couldn’t imagine that the mousy young woman had pulled the trigger or hired the person who had. “Look. We need to talk to her. At very least, we need to revoke her security privileges at the office.”

“I intend to have a nice long chat with her, when the time is right.” He folded his arms. “I would have already disabled her access to Marchionni Corp’s networks, but I’ve been arguing with you.”

Biting back a smart-assed comment, I stared at the darkening sky.

“Right now, we need to focus on Enzo and Dahlia. Come on, we should get back inside before the reporters see us.” He strode back into the building.

Once again, I followed him. “What good will it do if they’re murdered the second they walk out of here?”

While I doubted Enzo was the target, I couldn’t rule it out. Not until I got some answers from Frankie Abruzzo.

And there was Harrison Meriwether’s ex-wife. Politician Ken Doll had to be involved in this, but how? Last but certainly not least, Dahlia had a psycho-stalker out there somewhere—a stalker I suspect is Meriwether.

It has to be related.

I caught up to him at the door. “If you won’t help me, I’ll find someone who will.”

Marco narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat?”

“Nico isn’t the only one with family ties to the Abruzzos. Giancarlo Lazio and I had a nice chat at your wedding.”

“You go behind my back to another family, and you’re one step closer to getting sucked back into the life. Don’t think for a second Giancarlo won’t use your relationship with a presidential candidate’s daughter to his advantage.”

Because my fucking day could only get worse, Dahlia cleared her throat behind us.

She wore a pair of scrubs and a frown. “Have you lost your mind?”

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