Page 6 of The Forever One

“You are speaking to Mrs. Fox-Mancini.” I almost went with Volpe, but something in the back of my mind said that was a bad idea for right now. That little nugget is something I want to save for when I see this cunt in person, let him know his family screwed up when they didn’t actually take out the whole Volpe line.

“You really are a disrespectful slut, aren’t you? How dare you sully a good Italian name by adding your own to it, as if you even have the right, American whore.”

Obviously I can’t see him through the phone, but I can feel the corners of my mouth tipping into a small smile at how angry I seem to have made him over a name. I want to shout at him, yell obscenities until I’m blue in the face, but I also know that a man like this won’t be bullied into giving me information. He has to believe I’m compliant, weak, willing to do whatever he pleases, and feel as if he is in complete control of the situation. From just the few sentences he’s spoken to me so far, he’s an easy read. So, with a deep breath, I prepare myself for the job at hand.

The job of a lifetime.

Breaking this motherfucker, his family, everyone involved in all this shit, and finding my man.

“I assume you called for a reason, Mr. Ambrosio?” I am the picture of calm, apart from my shaking hands as adrenaline courses through my veins. Luckily, he can’t see that.

“Yes.” He laughs. “I assume you’re missing a husband, Mrs. Mancini?” As he’s on speakerphone, Gabri, Lina, and Stefano can hear everything he’s saying, and considering the actual Mrs. Mancini—not Fox-Mancini—is standing right there, after having lost her own husband a short while ago, well, that comment from him hit harder than I think he’d intended.

Gabri sniffs quietly, wiping at her eye before seemingly steeling her own spine against the whole situation.

“Enough of the games, Mr. Ambrosio. Ugo. Whatever. Just tell me what you want. Where are Marco and Enzo?” Maintaining my calm façade isn’t easy, but I’m a goddamn professional at it.

He laughs down the phone again. “I was hoping a little whore like you would be up for some fun first.” He takes a long, deep, annoyingly loud breath in, before exhaling on a bored sigh. “You have forty-eight hours to get to Naples. I will send you a burner phone to take with you and you will send a message to the number saved when you arrive. Once there, you will await further instruction.”

After Elizabeth’s revelation, that was the plan anyway, but I really don’t understand what they want with me. It’s weird, man. Fucking weird.

“Okay, when will I get the burner phone?”

“Soon. Make sure you’re alone. You don’t want to know what will happen if you’re not.” He laughs again but it’s not a nice, kind laugh made from joy, it’s evil. Pure evil. “Oh, you female Mancini’s are becoming quite renowned for losing your men to us. This is all just so fun. Hey, do you want to know a secret, little whore?”

The nickname he has taken to using for me grates on my nerves and I can’t help grinding my teeth as I respond. “Tell me.”

“You’re not the only Mrs. Mancini we have stolen a husband from.” His cackle flows through the phone just before he ends the call.

Moving my head up to look at the other people in this room, I’m not surprised to find their faces in as much shock, pain, and torment as my own. Something crosses Gabri’s eyes in that moment, and I know vengeance is on her mind. The Ambrosios are somehow responsible for Papa Mancini’s death. They have Marco and Enzo, they murdered my family for power… and Bruce, there was just no need for what they did to that little fluffball… these fuckers have got a whole shitstorm coming their way.

I move toward Gabri, standing by the window in Marco’s office, and wrap my arms around her, embracing her and offering comfort in the only way I know how.

“Mamma, we’ll get them. Okay? We’ll get those fuckers and make them pay a thousand times over.” Lina joins in, making it another group hug, something I am savoring, gathering my own strength from these powerful women I get to call family.

Gabri sniffs then pulls away with one simple nod of her head. “Si,cara.Si.”

“River, the last of the capos have arrived. Shall I send them to a room until morning?”

I hadn’t realized J was still here, but I guess if the capos were all on their way over, then it made sense that she stayed. I also hadn’t realized any others had already arrived while Lina and I were sleeping.

“No, can you get everyone gathered in the living room, please? I’d like to be comfortable while we do this and I can’t do that surrounded by the scent in this room.” It smells of vanilla, all Marco, all mine… all gone.

“Sure thing, Boss.”

I swear she’s been taking ninja lessons from Stefano, because she’s gone from the doorway within the blink of an eye.

* * *

This all feels a lot like a bad gangster movie. The capos with all their nicknames, which have taken me the last couple of hours to remember—not that I’m ever actually going to call them by those names. Eddie “Snake-Eyes” Borelli, George “The Butcher”, “Babyface” Tommy…

I mean, who comes up with these? They’re not exactly original.

Saying all that, J’s nickname is amazing. I’d totally call her Shadow if she’d let me. Apparently, she hates it, but it’s for jobs and people who need to stay afraid of her.

After what seems like weeks, but has only been a mere couple of hours, we have a kind of plan of attack in place. Our main issue is getting everyone over to Naples without detection and having no idea what sort of man-power the Ambrosios have.

Luckily, Marco has a private plane, but only one. And it’s not big enough for the army of people wanting to help.

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