Talking with Kate was never a problem.
He let out a long breath. Damn it.
The car turned off onto the long gravel drive to the Lucchesi Home for Children. Enrico’s chest was a collapsing balloon, all his air hissing out from a hole in his heart.
Going after Kate would be a declaration of war on the Andretti family.
When the car came to a stop, Antonio and Ruggero got out, flanking Enrico’s door. He stepped out and was immediately surrounded by excited children. Cries of “Zio Enrico!” filled the air.
Hearing the children call him “uncle” filled his chest with warmth and took the bite off his disappointment over Kate. As the children swarmed them, he glanced at Ruggero, who shrugged. What could they do? The children were harmless. And it wouldn’t do to alarm anyone, though the presence of Claudio and Santino, who were already waiting for them, would certainly be remarked upon, if not by the children, then by the staff.
Enrico unbuttoned his suit jacket and hitched up his trousers so he could crouch down to accept hugs from the younger children. Antonio gazed at him, a wistful expression on his face. There had been a time when Enrico had been greeted by Antonio this way, at this place, a time when he’d taken Antonio onto his lap and treated him like a son. But those days were gone.
Enrico noticed a shift in the children’s attention. He stood up and looked past Antonio to see Kate standing at the top of the steps leading up to the doorway of the orphanage. She was gazing out at the commotion. Enrico couldn’t help staring at her. Hearing a satisfied hum to his left, he glanced at Antonio’s half-turned face and saw a longing there that surely was mirrored on his own.
Enrico raised a hand in greeting to Kate, and she returned his wave and started descending the steps. She headed straight for him, her auburn hair gleaming in the sun, a few strands of it blowing across her pale cheek and into her green eyes. With a delicate hand, she brushed the hair out of her face. Enrico’s fingers twitched with the desire to touch her cheek like that, to feel the slide of her silky hair. A small, almost secretive smile crossed her features, and he swallowed hard. Dio mio. He felt that smile down to his toes.
She stopped a couple feet from him. “Signor Lucchesi, it’s good to see you, as always.”
He bowed his head slightly. “And you, Signora Andretti.” He paused, a grin spreading across his face. “Since when did we get so formal, Kate?”
She half-turned and motioned to the doorway behind her. And that was when he noticed it—a bruise on her right cheek. Merda! Had someone hit her? Tearing his eyes off the mark, he followed her gesture. A tall, sandy-haired man, well-muscled and handsome, leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed. “My husband, Vincenzo, is here.”
Enrico’s smile receded. Of course. Santino had called with the news a few minutes ago. He looked back to Kate. “I’d like to meet him.” And if he did this to her, he’s going to pay.
Something flashed in her eyes—fear perhaps?—then she smiled again. “Of course.” She turned and motioned for him to accompany her. Antonio and Ruggero fell into step behind them.
Enrico glanced up at Kate’s husband. Andretti didn’t look happy. Enrico’s eyes flicked back and to his right at Ruggero, who nodded. Andretti could have a gun tucked under his armpit, could be ready to draw when they came upon him. Ruggero stepped deftly around Kate, putting himself a little ahead of her. Antonio followed suit on Enrico’s left.
They approached Andretti. When they were two steps from the top, Andretti smiled, derision on his face. He addressed Enrico. “Don’t you worry, signore. I wouldn’t think of it. Not with all these kids around.”
“So you have more scruples than your uncle.”
“It was your pop who made things personal.”
Blood rushed in Enrico’s ears, the pounding of his heart the only sound he could hear. “Carlo was not justified in what he did. You know that.”
Andretti shrugged and looked away. “The past is the past. There ain’t no changing it.” His eyes swung back to Enrico. “You gotta know that.”
Enrico felt Kate’s eyes on him, her gaze a weight. There was so much he wanted to say to her husband. And all of it would make him look horrible to her.
Kate looked from Enrico to Andretti. “What are you two talking about?”
“Things ain’t been easy between the Lucchesis and my uncle.”
When her gaze turned back to him, Enrico said, “Your husband is being delicate.”
“Will one of you actually tell me what’s going on instead of talking in riddles?”
“Carlo was my…” Enrico groped for the word in English.
Andretti supplied it. “Father-in-law.”
Kate’s brows shot up. “What happened between you?”
What could he tell her that was at least half true? Before he could settle on a story, Andretti winked at him, a glint in his eye as he said to Kate, “I’ll explain later.” He extended his hand. “Signore.”
Enrico took Andretti’s hand. The man squeezed harder than necessary. He resisted the impulse to return the extra pressure.
Merda. His pulse quickened, his stomach doing a little flip. Kate couldn’t hear anything about who he really was. Particularly not from a member of the Andretti family.
Did she even know what her own husband did for a living? The look on Kate’s face said she was mystified. She must have no idea that Andretti was a Mafioso.
Kate looked from Vince to Enrico Lucchesi. What the hell was going on? Vince disliked Enrico, so why had he encouraged her to work for him?
A sick feeling invaded her gut. If Vince was in the Mafia, and if Carlo hated Enrico, perhaps Vince wasn’t really here to see her? A few weeks ago he’d asked when she saw the big boss, and she’d told him Enrico’s visiting schedule. At the time, he’d seemed merely curious. But perhaps he had a darker motive for asking. What had Vince said to Enrico? I wouldn’t think of it. Not with all these kids around.
She had to speak to Enrico privately, and it was going to take more than a few minutes. More time than Vince would spare her. And there was the little matter of the overnight bag. Vince had taken it; it was sitting at his feet right now.
Except for the photos, she could replace everything. If he thought taking the bag would stop her from leaving, he was dead wrong.
All he’d done was make her more determined. But first she had to get rid of him. Fake an illness. She let out a little cough and rubbed her arms again.
Enrico touched her forearm. “Are you unwell?”
While she was nodding at Enrico, Vince stepped down, pulling her to him, his body curving around hers. “Maybe I should take you home.”
No! “You were right earlier. I’m not feeling that great.” She pressed a hand against her stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Come on, I’ll take you home then.”
She shook her head. “What about the Ferrari? The road is so twisty, I might throw up.”
“I don’t care about the car.”
Ooh, that was a lie. But of course he’d say that. He knew she wasn’t sick. “I’d like to stay put for a while and see if this passes.”
“Come on.” His eyes cut into her. No doubt he was thinking of the overnight bag.
“I can take her home when I leave,” Enrico offered.
Vince stared at him. “I can take care of my wife.”
“I did not imply otherwise. It is clear she would like to stay here for a time. Since I have business here, I can accommodate her. And you.”
“I don’t need no accommodating from you, signore. Just mind your own business. This is between a husband and wife.”
Enrico looked at her cheek, then he said dryly, “I can see that.”
Kate flushed and jerked away from Vince’s hold. “Signor Lucchesi can bring me home.”
“Fine,” Vince said, though his tone indicated the situation was anything but. He kissed her on the cheek. “Call if you want me to come get you.” She nodded, and he leaned in close
, whispering in her ear. “Come home to me, Katie.” The pleading note in his voice tightened her throat.
“I will,” she lied, then watched Vince head to his car after picking up her bag and giving a curt nod to Enrico. Part of her still didn’t want to believe that he’d hit her.
Part of her still didn’t want to believe it was blood on his jacket.
But maybe she’d get some answers about that. If Enrico had been Carlo’s son-in-law, he knew the family well. He would know who they really were. And she would find out how much trouble she was in.
Then again… Guards surrounded them. Maybe Enrico has a secret of his own. He looked down at her, concern evident in his gaze. Could she trust him? Some instinct said yes.
She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “May we speak?” She looked around at the guards. “Without your entourage?”
Coloring slightly, Enrico studied his shoes and nodded. He followed her inside and down the hallway, their steps echoing on the marble floor. As always, Kate thought the place was quite ritzy for an orphanage. Enrico spared no expense when it came to the children. They had new clothes, sparkling furnishings, an extensive library, excellent teachers. He even sponsored private university educations for the children with top marks. A man like that, a man who really cared—that was a man worth trusting, right?
When they reached the door to her office, Enrico’s hand brushed the small of her back as he leaned around her, pushing the door open for her. He’d never touched her in such a possessive way before. The heat of his hand branded her through the thin blouse. He was a great deal taller than she was; in fact, he positively loomed over her. Perhaps she should have felt intimidated, but his height served only to highlight the contrast between his masculinity and her femininity.
Her attraction to him had always lurked in the background, but she’d done her best to ignore it, to keep Enrico firmly in the friend category, despite that easy smile, those deep brown eyes, that wavy black hair—she’d wondered more than once what it would feel like, running through her fingers. That strong, straight nose, that firm chin, that square jaw that all conspired to make him fashion model handsome. That deep voice with its upper-crust British accent and the liquid lilt of Italian as an undercurrent running through it. But now, after what had happened this morning, some traitorous part of her was thinking otherwise….
Cool it, Kate. She was not in the market for a new husband. Rather, she was in the market for a divorce.
She marched into the room and sat down behind the desk, wanting the expanse of wood between them. There, that was better. Much better.
He closed the door, then took the chair across from her. “You are not actually ill, yes?”
It was her turn to blush. “No. I needed to speak to you. Alone.”
He leaned forward and gestured toward her cheek. “May I ask what happened?”
So polite, this man. It brought tears to her eyes. He was nothing like Vince. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Kate, per favore, allow me to be frank. There is trouble between you and your husband, yes?”
She kept her eyes glued to the pathetic little plant on the corner of her desk. Her one attempt at making the cluttered office more homey. She opened her mouth to speak and found a lump in her throat that threatened to strangle her. Trying to speak around it, she managed a hoarse whisper. “Signore, I beg you not to mention it again.”
He sat back. “At least call me Enrico when you dismiss me.” He put enough lightness in his tone to tell her he wasn’t offended. “If you did not wish to talk about your husband, why did you want to see me?”
“Dottor Laurio is ill. And I need my paycheck for the month.”
“Ah.” He reached inside his jacket pocket and withdrew a fine leather wallet. “I assume cash will be preferable?”
“If you have that much on you.”
He smiled. “How much do I owe you?” She named the amount and watched as he counted out the bills and handed them to her. A thick stack of euros remained in his wallet. Who the hell carried that much cash around?
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked.
Kate hesitated. How did she go about asking whether her husband was in the Mafia? Could she just come out with it, or should she hint at the subject? It was difficult to tell with Italians sometimes. They could be so oblique.
Clasping her hands together on the desk, she decided to go with the indirect approach. But first she’d put him in the hot seat. “Why do you have all the guards with you? Usually it’s just you and your driver. Antonio, isn’t it?”
“Actually, Antonio is my personal bodyguard. I have two. Ruggero is the other.”
Kate raised an eyebrow. “You have two bodyguards?”
“Well, four today, but Claudio and Santino aren’t always with me.”
“Okay, but why are they here now?”
When he rubbed his chin, she heard the faint scrape of stubble against his fingertips. “Unfortunately, Italy is not as civilized as you might think. The Mafia has a bad habit of kidnapping well-to-do businessmen. I received information today that suggests I am in imminent danger. Therefore, I must have protection. More than usual.” He let out a brief chuckle. “My insurer would lock me up without it. It is a bit of a nuisance, really. But there is a cost to having money.”
“But four guards? Really?”
“The ’Ndrangheta has infiltrated all aspects of society here in recent years. It is worst around Milan, but they are here at the lake now too.”
“N-drang-ayta? What’s that?” Kate asked, her stomach tightening. Is this what Vince had gotten himself mixed up in?
“The ’Ndrangheta is the Calabrian Mafia. The name means ‘The Honored Society.’”
“So they’re not part of the Sicilian Mafia? That’s the only one I’ve ever heard of.”
“Yes, the ’Ndranghetisti are separate from Cosa Nostra. And they are much trickier for the law to stop.”
“Why?”
“Because the ’Ndrangheta is organized along family lines—blood family. Any man who is caught will not easily turn on his father, his brothers, his cousins.”
Interesting. Vince worked for his uncle. It fit the profile. “How many ’Ndrangheta families are there?”
“About one hundred and fifty. And each family has a boss who has no boss.”
Kate whistled. “A hundred and fifty bosses?”
“So you see the problem.”
“These are the men you have to watch out for?”
“Yes.” Apparently seeing the alarm on her face, he hastened to add, “Do not worry. You are probably not in any danger. They typically kidnap only the very wealthy. And they usually do not kill the people they kidnap. There is no money in that. They are, fortunately, a practical people.”
“Then why all the guards? It doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Their victims often do not go home in one piece.” He wiggled his fingers.
Kate felt faint. Oh God. “They cut off fingers?” What if Vince had done that?
“Proof of life. Or a threat of its opposite. It tends to motivate payment.”
“But wouldn’t they get paid anyway?”
“If the family can afford it. The ransom demands are often… exorbitant.” He smiled ruefully. “Millions of euros, usually.”
“I had no idea it was so lawless here.”
“Lawless? No. But certainly this is not America.” He paused and looked at her closely for a moment. “You did not ask me here to talk about my troubles.”
“It’s interesting though.” Kate wanted to keep him talking; she wasn’t quite ready to ask her question. “I want to learn more about Italy, and certainly the Mafia is a big part of this country.”
“Yes and no. The Mafia organizations are more pervasive in the south. In some towns in Calabria, every man is a member of the ’Ndrangheta. That is hardly true here in the north. Still, they do have influence.”
“Only to the extent that criminals
everywhere have influence.”
“That is where you are wrong. The Mafia controls much of the Italian state as well, from the Prime Minister down to the local chief of police.” He paused. “Even now, the Italian government is rewriting laws to avoid having to prosecute our Prime Minister, Italo Baldassare, on various Mafia-related charges.”
“Why don’t the people fight it? Why don’t they try to stop the Mafia?”
“The situation is complicated. Cosa Nostra and the ’Ndrangheta date back over a hundred years. Originally, they protected villagers from bandits, and later they helped defeat the French. The Bourbons did not care about the Italian people. They just saw us as a source of revenue.” His smile was wry. “The Mafia had noble origins, noble intentions. And they still do in some cases. They help people who cannot find justice any other way. And they do help the less fortunate.”
Kate snorted. “You make it sound rather romantic. They kill people, Enrico. They would kidnap you and cut off your fingers if they could.”
“I do not disagree. But one cannot be Italian and not understand why they exist, what purpose they serve.”
“You can’t be noble and terrorize people at the same time.”
“You do not understand Italians, do you?” Enrico smiled at her.
“They’re just like other people.”
Shaking his head, he leaned forward. “Every Italian male thinks he is a prince. One must be a bigger, badder prince to get him to obey. Intimidation is all most Italian men understand.”
Kate smiled with her lips pursed. “You’re kidding me.”
“I am not.” He shook his head again, laughing.
“So what did you do to impress the men who work for you? What did you do to stop your competitors?”
Enrico’s smile faded and he sat up straight. “I did what I had to do. I put on a big, swaggering show. I dressed better, I thought better, and I was ruthless in my business dealings. I crushed some other companies. It was necessary.”
“Did you ever have business with the ’Ndrangheta? Did they do your dirty work?”
He held her eyes. “Why are you asking me this?”
Killer Romances Page 6