“Tell me what happened. Start at the beginning.”
She wraps her arms around herself. “I got a text from Vale saying Gemma was hurt and that she’d pick me up from work.”
Giorgio clears his throat. “I took a look at her phone. Garzolo used Valentina’s old US phone.”
I want to laugh. So fucking obvious. Garzolo didn’t have to try very hard at all. He’d waited for the best opportunity, and it presented itself when Cleo’s sisters came to town.
How could she have fallen for it?
My gaze narrows on her. Fury throbs through my body, heating me from the inside out. “I told you to never go anywhere without your guards.”
She winces. “I’m sorry.”
“Why didn’t you ask Sandro about it?”
“I didn’t think—”
My fists clench. “That’s right, you never fucking think.”
She jerks like she’d been slapped. God, I want to slap her. I want to shake her for being so goddamn reckless. She bridges the distance between us, tries to reach for me, but I turn away.
Hurt flashes across her face. “Rafe?”
The heartbreak in her voice pierces through me. This can’t go on. I am a don first and foremost, and I cannot be with a woman like her.
A hurricane.
I was a fool to think I could tame a hurricane. A fool to let myself get attached to her. This is why there was never supposed to be anything but lust between us. There’s too much at stake.
“Get her out of here,” I say to Giorgio. “Take her to her sisters.”
Giorgio nods, but Cleo shakes her head. “No. I want to go home with you,” she pleads.
“I won’t be home for a while.” My voice is pure ice. “I have to clean up this mess. If you want to wait there for me alone, be my guest.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and I can’t fucking stand to see it.
I walk away from her, trusting Giorgio to get her home safely, and with each step, I shove my feelings for her down.
CHAPTER 37
RAFAEL
It takes three hours to bury the bodies and get the warehouses cleaned up. In the meantime, Nero, Doc, and Emanuele take Michael Ferraro to the hospital for treatment so he’ll have the best chance of making it out of this alive.
I’m nearly home when I get the call from Nero.
I pick up. “Speak.”
“He’s dead.”
My heart freezes mid-beat. Just our fucking luck. Why is it that some assholes are seemingly impossible to kill, but this kid goes down with one damn bullet? I rub my forehead with the heel of my palm. This is bad.
“Get out of there right now and go somewhere safe.”
“Doc is still with me.”
“Ask him if he’s willing to stay until Ferraro’s men come. I’ll call Ferraro and explain the situation.”
A beat passes. “Rafe, he’ll want me.”
I clench my jaw. Ferraro will demand vengeance. There’s no doubt about that. “I know. Let me talk to Gino. Where’s Emanuele?”
“With his cousin. Saying his goodbyes.”
“Leave now. Destroy your phone. Next time you call me, use a burner.”
Nero lets out a heavy sigh. “Will do.”
I park the car outside the house and go straight to my office, my mind running over my limited options.
Can I deny Nero shot him? Impossible. There’s a witness. We should have killed Emanuele earlier and claimed both of them died in the gunfire. I sink into my chair and drag my hand down my face. I might have thought of that on the spot if I’d been in control of myself instead of flailing like an idiot and losing my mind over my wife.
It’s too late now. Emanuele’s probably already told Gino what happened. The only thing I can do is fucking pray Gino will forgive Nero for making an honest mistake.
Gino picks up my call right away. “My nephew is dead, killed by your consigliere, after I went out on a limb and sent him over to help you.” The anger in his voice is palpable.
“Gino, it was an accident. Nero didn’t know your guys were coming. I didn’t have time to call.”
“Your incompetence is not my fucking problem.” His voice booms over the speaker. “If you weren’t in control of the situation, you shouldn’t have asked for my fucking help.”
He’s right. He’s fucking right. In retrospect, I can’t believe the reckless stupidity of my actions. It was pure desperation. Devoid of logic and reason.
“Truly, I’m sorry.”
“Fuck your sorry. You think that sorry is going to matter to Michael’s mother? And do you even realize how this makes me look? I agreed to help you as a gesture of good faith. I thought we really had a chance to put the feud between our families behind us once and for all. There’s only one way to make this right, and you fucking know it.”
My blood runs cold.
“I want to see Nero’s body by tomorrow morning. If you’re not man enough to kill him, I’ll do it myself.”
I get up and walk over to the bar. “Look, let’s not overreact. Let’s talk about this.”
“There’s nothing left to talk about, Rafaele.”
I splash some whiskey into a glass. My hands are shaking. “Let me compensate you for your loss. How much would fix this?”
“I don’t need your money.”
“Territory then. I’ll give you my assets in Manhattan. You can run them as you wish.”
“This isn’t about that,” Gino snaps. “This is about you learning a lesson I would have thought you learned a long time ago. You don’t put another don’s men at risk like this. I won’t ever work with you if you don’t make this right, do you understand?”
The alcohol burns my throat. I want to roar in frustration. I can’t risk a war with the Ferraros when I’m still trying to get a handle on Garzolo’s family and trying to fight back the Bratva. My resources are spread thin. There’s a good chance they’d squash us. How the fuck did I allow this to happen?
“Nero’s gone,” I grind out. “It’ll take me longer than that to find him.”
“You can find him, or I will. And trust me when I say his death will be far quicker if you do it.”
“Gi—”
He hangs up.
I stare at the phone screen for a few seconds before I throw my glass across the room. It hits a bookshelf and shatters. Next goes the paperweight, straight through the mirror. Then I shove every piece of crap I’ve got on my desk onto the floor. Papers fly everywhere, but it doesn’t help. Nothing fucking helps.
“Fuck!”
Nero. He wants Nero.
My consigliere. My friend. The man who’s stood by my side since we were kids. The man who’s put his life on the line for me whenever I’ve asked him to do it, doing whatever I’ve fucking asked of him. The man who’s been unfailingly loyal to me. And in my moment of weakness, I set him up. I did him fucking dirty.
The door to my office opens, and Cleo appears.
“Get out,” I growl.
She pauses, her hand on the door handle, but then her lips firm into a line, and she steps inside. “No.”