Page 100 of Mafia Kings: Dario

I gave him a look likeDon’t fuck with me right now. “Are they alright?”

“Valentino is. Massimo was shot.”

I stared at him. “How bad is it?”

“He says it’s through-and-through, no severe damage – but I’m having them meet a gunshot doctor at a safe house run by the Agrellas.”

“NO. Tell him to get back herenow.”

Niccolo looked angry. “If this is about protecting Alessandra – ”

“How do we know the Agrellas weren’t behind the hit?”

“We don’t, but they – ”

“Haven’t violated our arrangement in over 20 years – is that what you were going to say?”

“Let me guess whatyou’regoing to say,” Niccolo snapped. “That it’s incrediblysuspicious the Agrellas are doing business with the man you just turned down an hour ago.”

“If it’s a coincidence, it’s the worst one I’ve ever seen. Do we know where the Turk’s base of operations is?”

Niccolo shook his head. “No – and his car is probably out of reach by now.”

“The Agrellas aren’t,” I snarled. “We knowexactlywhere they are.”

“The Agrellascouldhave hired some out-of-town hitters to take out Valentino and Massimo, it’s true,” Niccolo admitted. “Or they might have agreed to let the Turk’s men take a shot. Either is possible – but I just spoke to the Agrellas’consigliere,and he offered us one of their safe houses. If their family does something out in the open that hurts Massimo or Valentino, it’s full-out war. The Agrellas aren’t stupid enough to risk that.”

“Unless they’re like the Turk and think Papa’s death made us weak,” I said. “Are you really going to bet Massimo and Valentino’s lives on that?”

Niccolo narrowed his eyes. “And Alessandra’s life, too? Or did you just conveniently leave her name out?”

“Get them back hereimmediately. Call the cops to make sure they’re not stopped. Get them a new car if theirs is shot up. Do whatever it takes – but we’renottrusting the Agrellas on this.”

Niccolo shook his head as he pulled out his phone and dialed. “Prison made you paranoid – you know that?”

“If you’re going to be a wartimeconsigliere,brother, you had better get a lotmoreparanoid,” I snapped.

Niccolo glared at me, then turned away. “Massimo? New plan…”

31

Alessandra

Lars and ten of the family’s foot soldiers met us halfway back to the house. They were waiting in three new cars by the side of the road, and most of the men were heavily armed.

There was a man with them who was apparently a doctor. While Lars kept guard, the doctor checked out Massimo and hooked up an IV and bag of saline to his arm. Then he cut open Massimo’s shirt with a razor so he could inspect the wound.

“Is he going to be alright?” I asked anxiously.

“No more shootouts for a while, but he’ll be fine,” the doctor assured me. “The bullet didn’t even go through a muscle – basically just through skin and fat.”

“Hey – are you calling me fat?” Massimo said with fake umbrage.

Lars grinned. “Don’t worry. We know you’re just big-boned.”

While the doctor bandaged up Massimo, everyone talked by the roadside.

“Thank you,” I told Massimo for the dozenth time.

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