Page 28 of Dante

“To breathe,” he finishes for me. “Even if you figure out where they took your father and…”

“Cambria.”

“Right. Even if you figure out where they took your father and Cambria, what are you going to do? Barge in by yourself? You’ll get them and yourself killed.”

I snarl at the thought, but Armando continues.

“And do we know who exactly took her? Was this a strategic move on the Colombo’s part, or did a handful of wannabe’s see an opportunity?”

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know, but I need to find out.”

“Who do we know in Chicago?” Armando asks. “I know you keep up relationships and communications between other families. Never put much stock in that part of your job, but I can see how it’s helpful now.”

“Right,” I breathe out, going through my mental list of contacts in this area. “Chicago is Moscatelli territory.”

“Rocco is one of their enforcers,” Armando surprises me by adding.

“Yeah, I think that’s right. How did you know?”

“Us dumb jocks stick together,” he jokes. I don’t have it in me to yell at him, and truthfully, I appreciate his level-headedness in this situation. I can’t believe I just had that thought about Armando, but this day is fucking with everything I’ve ever known.

“You get a hold of Rocco, and I’ll see if I have Matteo or Luca’s number. I have a picture and a number from the kidnappers I’ll forward to you.”

“I’ll get Valentino to run the number and see if we can track it,” he offers. “Romeo will be informed of the situation as soon as it’s safe to approach him.”

I nod, even though I know he can’t see me. “Thanks, Armando,” I choke, clearing my throat of emotion. Never thought I’d say that, but I don’t regret it.

“I’ve got your back, Dante. We’ll find your woman and your father.”

A moment after we hang up, an address pops up in the form of a text from Armando. It’s an old-school Italian bistro a few blocks away, and I’m sure the Moscatelli family operates it.

Sure enough, as soon as I reach the front door, I’m ushered inside and led to the back of the restaurant. There, in a separate dining area with dimmed lights and an extravagant bar taking up an entire wall, sit three men in a booth.

“Dante Santarossa,” the middle one says, tilting his head toward the light. I can barely make out the strong jawline and furrowed brows in the low lighting, but that voice is one I’d recognize anywhere.

“Matteo Moscatelli,” I respond, holding my hand out to shake his.

The man grasps my hand, giving it one good squeeze before dropping it. “I hear you need assistance.”

“Yes, I, I mean, my Cambria, uh, well, the nurse who takes care of my father, she…” I clear my throat, trying to get my shit together.

“This is about a woman you love?” Matteo snaps.

I’m not sure if he’s about to yell at me, shoot me, or laugh in my face, but I tell him the truth. “Yes. The Colombos followed me here from New York and have my Cambria and my father tied up in a goddamn warehouse somewhere.”

Matteo leans forward, resting his elbows on the table as he steeples his hands in front of him. “Why did they follow you here? Are you bringing war to us?”

“No,” I’m quick to reply. “The Colombos tried getting in on our territory, taking over one of our businesses. They started this, and they deserve whatever is coming to them. Truthfully, I suspect these fools are acting independently without direct orders from their boss. Either way, they want to use my family as a bargaining chip to scare us away.”

“Is it working?”

I growl at the revered mafia boss, who remains stoic as ever. “The Di Salvos will never back down. We are not afraid of anything.”

“But you, Dante. Areyouafraid?”

His dark eyes find mine, and I know we’re not high-ranking members from different mafia families at this moment. We’re two men who know what it’s like to have something precious stolen from them.

Everyone has heard the legend of Matteo and Darlene. When a rival family took Darlene, Matteo went to war for her. It turns out that Darlene was a queen in her own right and handled her shit better than anyone could have imagined.

---