by Bethany-Kris
Mac got nothing in response.
He sighed loudly.
“Enric.”
“What?” the younger man snapped.
“It’s never too late to admit that you might need your dad, even if it’s just to have him ask if you’re okay,” Mac murmured.
“I am okay, Mac.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t need him to ask, so then you know that he knows you’ll be just fine regardless, and maybe then that’ll help his worrying, too. Luca loves you, but only as much as you have allowed, Enric. Again, that was not by his choice.”
Enric didn’t respond.
Mac didn’t really need him to.
Enric wheeled himself out of the doors, looking slightly happier than he had before he entered. Mac hoped that was a good sign that the visit between father and son had gone better than expected. But then again, sometimes it was hard to tell with Enric.
“James Maccari, you’re up next,” came the call from the guard behind the Plexiglas.
Luca was no longer allowed visitors in small groups, but now, only one-on-one.
Mac passed Enric by with a nod as the man collected his things from the designated bin.
“I’ll be waiting outside,” Enric said.
“No smoking in the vehicle,” Mac warned.
Enric scowled. “Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m serious. Melina would have a fit if she smelled it.”
Enric knew the rules.
And how Melina could be.
“I got it, boss,” Enric muttered.
Mac readied to turn and correct Enric’s casual use of a title that was in no way designated to him. Skip was one thing—Mac was a Capo, after all. Boss, though? That was quite another thing.
He didn’t get the chance to correct Enric, as the guard at the door impatiently waved him along, looking like he was two seconds away from sending Mac back the way he had come. Mac couldn’t afford to miss the meeting with Luca because he had mouthed off to a pushy guard. Especially considering the meetings with the locked up boss were already far and few between, Luca rarely used the phone to make calls to his men, and Mac happened to be one of the few that Luca did call on.
Mac was shuffled down a hallway, through another set of metal doors, then came another longer corridor, before being checked and rechecked again. He had already given up his jacket, the contents of his pants pockets, and his cell phone at the visitation check-in. Still, further in, he was given a more thorough search, and had his shoes replaced with booties.
Three thousand dollar leather loafers replaced with three dollar paper booties.
It was fucking undignified.
“Cazzo,” Mac swore, “be easy with the leather, merda.”
The guard behind the table barely passed Mac a glance as he unceremoniously dumped the expensive shoes into a waiting gray bin. There was no gentleness involved in the actions at all.
The only thing Mac could do was shoot the guy with a look that voiced his inner irritation before he was shuffled along again.
Damn.
He was starting to feel like the prisoner.
If somebody brought out the cuffs, Mac was gone.
Mac missed the simplicity of the jail where Luca had first been housed while he waited out his hearings and inevitable trial. Visiting the Cosa Nostra Don back then had not been so difficult or exhausting. The change in venue was apparently due to Luca’s high profile, and the very nature of his charges.
At one time, the justice system had been innocent until proven guilty. Yeah, right.
Luca had been denied many things since his arrest—from contact with people outside of his lawyer, to a proper bail. The dignity of justice was gone.
Mac no longer believed that guilt had to be proven in a made man’s circumstance, only believed.
Luca was the very proof.
Unless, that was, there was something that Mac didn’t know. Something about the entire thing with Luca that he was missing.
Who knew?
Soon, Mac found himself in a secure visitation room, sitting across the metal table from Luca while the man picked at his supper on a tray. The food on the tray didn’t appear to be very appetizing, and at least one of the reddish-brown lumps was something Mac couldn’t decipher.
Luca waved a plastic spoon over the lump, seemingly noticing Mac’s stare. “Take a guess.”
“Uh … shit?”
The boss chuckled in his drab, gray prison uniform. “Close enough. They say it is meatloaf. I say my wife, and her absolute shitty ability to cook anything, could make a better meatloaf.”
Mac’s brow furrowed. “Should it be that soggy?”
“No.”
Well, then.
Speaking of Neeya …
“I heard Neeya finally closed the deal on the mansion with a buyer,” Mac said.
Luca didn’t bother to look up from his food as he answered. “Sì, the lawyer let me know the last time he was in. Eleven million—a bit less than what I paid for the estate, but it’s a decent price given the current market.”
“The lawyer let you know?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Neeya didn’t think to call?”
Luca sighed. “Something on your mind?”
Apparently, Mac was not being as sly as he thought he was with his line of questioning.
“You don’t seem bothered that she sold your home,” Mac noted.
“Hers, not mine.” Luca smiled thinly. “From the day we married, every single thing I ever owned or bought was put into her name. It’s all hers, Mac. And as such, she can do with any of it whatever she wishes to do.”
“But doesn’t any of it feel like yours?” Mac asked, knowing that he was already toeing a very careful line. It was not his place to ask questions or to demand answers about another man’s—never mind the boss’s—wife or marriage. Luca would have every right to shut Mac down. Mac persisted before Luca could do just that. “The cars you collected over the years, your family heirlooms, the paintings of your father and grandfather? None of it feels like yours?”
Luca finally glanced up from his food. “There is only one thing in this world other than my surname and the legacy it holds that belongs only to me now. Neeya knows what that is—she has always known. I’ve never doubted that.”
Mac wanted to ask exactly what that was, but checked his impulse, knowing that he had already pushed his luck and Luca’s good graces more than enough. The man was in prison, sure, but he was still who he was.
A boss.
And that deserved respect.
Always.
“Enric is doing well,” Luca said between bites. “Mentioned he gained himself a new therapist.”
Luca shot Mac with a sly smile, adding, “You, I mean.”
“Someone has to keep his whiney ass in line.”
“As long as you don’t push too hard.”
Mac stilled in his seat, catching Luca’s eye for a moment. He heard the warning in the man’s tone, but even more importantly, he heard the request. Not from a boss to his capo, or even a man to a man.
No, a father to a father.
Mac heard it.
“Enric has plenty of others to push him where I won’t,” Mac assured.
Luca nodded. “Good. Perfetto.”
“Have you had any contact with Enzo?”
“Not since …” Luca trailed off, as though he had to consider how long it had actually been since he had a discussion with his underboss. “A while.”
As far as Mac knew, Enzo was still being housed in the jail where Luca had first been staying. He didn’t understand why the boss had been moved due to the nature of his charges and upcoming trial, yet the underboss facing the same issues, had not.
Unless …
“Do you think the Feds are working Enzo for information?” Mac asked.
Luca shrugged. “You would have to be the one to tell me that, Mac.”
The boss had offered the reply so easily, as though
he didn’t truly care one way or the other, but Mac didn’t believe that to be true. Loyalty was everything to Luca, and if the man had even the slightest inkling that someone was infecting Enzo to turn on his boss and old friend, then a life would be lost.
“And what news do you have for me?” Luca asked, effectively changing the subject before Mac could press the man for more details on Enzo.
“Anthony.”
Luca scowled, chewing his bite of food with a bit more force than before. “Keep going.”
“He suggests that he has contact with either you, or Enzo, and behaves accordingly.”
“Is that so?”
“Does he?”
Luca tapped a single finger to his temple. “Not me.”
But perhaps Enzo.
Mac got the man’s unspoken words. “You would be the better of the two, given some of his … actions lately.”
“Like what?”
Mac quickly went over some of Anthony Corelli’s latest nonsense, and the way the rest of the Pivetti Capos and their men were reacting to the actions and such. “He’s certainly gotten the idea stuck in his head that he is justified—if not expected—to take some kind of control while others are unable. We’ve discussed this before, Luca.”
“I’m still not sure why Anthony is going that route.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious. He’d like to find himself in the boss’s seat when you’re unable to fill it.”
It was the first time Mac had suggested the inevitable to Luca. That the man, no matter how good his lawyers were or what the unknown would bring them, would not be free. He would not be returning to his previous position as the head of the family. It was what it was, and they needed to face what it could mean.
Luca was the boss.
That meant, up until he no longer held that title, he made the calls as to who should follow him and why.
“What about that rat problem you were having?” Luca asked.
Another subject change?
Mac pushed back his irritation. “I’d like to think that’s Anthony, too.”
“Really?”
“I have my reasons, just no proof.”
“Would a rat kill while being tangled with the officials in some way?” Luca asked.
“He’s the only one that makes sense.”
Luca nodded. “Well, we’ll certainly have that figured out soon enough, won’t we? And after it’s all said and done, if you still have the problem, then you know Anthony is the one causing those issues.”
“After what is said and done?” Mac asked.
The boss went back to his food like he hadn’t said a thing. “Soon enough. Tell me about your wife, and that baby of yours.”
Mac had no choice but to give into the boss’s request, knowing questioning Luca would likely get him nowhere. Once the man made up his mind, or decided to do something, it was already done, essentially. He didn’t feel the need to explain it or talk it out with someone else.
It was simply a wait and see situation.
Mac would wait and see what Luca had done.
Mac checked his watch for the fifth time, before glancing around the upscale restaurant to see if his guest had shown up yet. There was no one at the front, making him sigh.
Maybe he could be a little bit more patient, given the situation. After all, he had planned this night as a sort of surprise for his wife, with no prior notice so that she could prepare. It wouldn’t be strange for Melina to have a minor freak out at the idea of suddenly arriving home to babysitters, her bags packed, and a new dress waiting on her bed. He hadn’t given anyone permission to explain what to tell Melina, and she was given nothing to expect. The only thing his wife would have found was the dress, and a note saying she was expected elsewhere for the evening, and to dress and look accordingly.
It was time, Mac thought.
Time for his wife to get away. Time for her to have a break, even if it was only for one night. It was definitely time for Mac to spend some time loving and showing his wife just how much he appreciated her.
It had been too long for them.
Since Marquise had been born, too much had been pushed aside. Mac didn’t blame his son for that, as that’s what happened when babies came along. Things changed. Lives had to change accordingly. The old rules no longer applied.
He was simply going to work around that little issue.
New rules, Mac mused.
Too many times, he had just started something with his wife at home in their bed, only to have the cries of a hungry or wet baby interrupt his not-so-innocent intentions. He knew that Melina had gotten her all clear from the doctor, which meant she was good to have all the fun in the world with Mac.
As long as they could find the time.
Mac was no longer looking for time.
He was fucking making it.
Marquise would be perfectly fine for one night with his godfather and godmother. He wasn’t even leaving his own house. He would sleep in his own crib, and wake up there in the morning. The only difference?
He would not be cock blocking his father.
Win.
Melina would have had her panicked moment when she arrived home, waffled a bit on leaving the baby, but once she realized there was no other option, she would follow along with Mac’s game. He was sure of it.
“You look mighty pleased about something,” came a voice from the side.
Mac smiled at the silky, familiar tone of his wife. He found Melina standing at the side of his table, and chuckled at his own distraction. He missed her coming into the restaurant, which was a shame. He had really wanted to watch her walk across the floor in the dress he bought her for the night—the black, tight, sequined number hugged Melina’s curves beautifully, and fell three inches above her knees.
“Well, what is it that has you smiling over here all by your lonesome?” Melina asked.
“Just thinking about you, doll, and all the hell you must have given Victoria and Enric before you left.”
Melina’s gaze narrowed as she stared out the restaurant window. “Yes, well, I’m sure Marquise will be perfectly fine for one night. Now.”
Mac cocked a brow. “Now?”
“I may have made some threats.”
“Melina.”
“What?” His wife smirked, shrugging a single dainty shoulder like she didn’t have a care in the world. “Momma Bear doesn’t play, Mac.”
No, she certainly didn’t.
“They’re doing me a great favor by watching the baby tonight,” Mac said.
Melina waited for him to stand, pull out her chair, and only then did she sit, allowing him to push her back into the table. “You sprung this on me with no warning. I have not left Marquise alone for a whole night once since he was born. Some attitude should have been—at the very least—expected.”
Mac nodded, letting his fingers drift through the soft curls at the nape of his wife’s neck. He loved it when she wore her hair down in curls. They always looked like silk, soft and shiny, and he couldn’t help himself but to touch. Her warm caramel-toned skin felt the same under his fingertips, only he felt the blood rush to the surface of her neck, her pulse picking up slightly, as his fingers drifted over her throat.
Leaning down, Mac placed a lingering kiss to his wife’s cheek. “Oh, I always expect the attitude, doll.”
“You’re working for something tonight, aren’t you?”
Mac had no intention of hiding that. “All night, if possible.”
Melina’s grin turned a bit wicked as Mac took his seat across from her. “You didn’t need to take me away for the evening to get a good fuck, Mac.”
He shot her a look.
Melina smirked. “What?”
“Yes, I absolutely did. Tomorrow, I intend to be exhausted because of one thing, and it is not going to be because a baby was hungry or wet.”
She didn’t even try to argue with him.
A server moved towards their table, offering to open the bottle
of wine Mac had waiting, and ready to take their order. It was only after the server had left, and his wife was nursing a glass of wine, did Mac speak again.
“If you have something specific you might like to do tonight, now would be the time to speak up and say so, doll.”
Melina pursed her painted red lips. “What did you have planned first?”
“A show after this, then a beautiful suite with a hot tub and a big ass bed.”
“That sounds lovely, actually.”
“I thought so,” Mac mused, grinning. “But I figured I should ask you if there was something you might like to do otherwise.”
Melina looked up, swirling the wine in her glass. “A drive, maybe.”
“A drive?”
“When do we ever get to drive, just you and me, anymore?” she asked.
Never.
He was always gone somewhere.
She was always busy.
“A drive it is,” Mac agreed.
Mac moved his chair closer to his wife as they waited for their food to be served. By the time the food did finally get to them, he might as well have had Melina sitting in his lap, but she didn’t seem to mind. There, he could give her all the attention she had probably been missing lately.
“You didn’t tell me about the trip to the prison yesterday,” Melina said as she righted her napkin on her lap. “Or how it all went.”
“No business tonight, doll.”
“It’s not business. It was a visit.”
“It’s always business,” Mac said with a wink. “And we’re not doing that tonight.”
His tone brokered no room for argument. Melina handed a fork over to him, and smiled like a pleased kitten with her cream as her husband fed her.
Melina played with the shimmering jewels on her clutch as Mac signed them into the hotel, and waited for the room key to be handed over. The dinner had ended long before the show was supposed to start, and Mac decided to take his wife on that drive, which lead them out of the city. By the time they had got back, the show was already well beyond the beginning, but Melina hadn’t minded. She convinced him to leave the show before it was even over.
“Thanks,” Mac said as the room key was finally handed over. He placed his hand to his wife’s lower back, and directed her towards the elevator. “Let’s go, doll.”