“Are you going to listen to him?”
Dom looked up at Enrico. “He is my padrino too, so yes, I will let him handle it. But I would shake you until you saw sense if I could. You nearly got us all killed. Because of your selfishness!”
Enrico blanched. Dom was right. And wasn’t he also right to involve La Provincia if he thought that necessary? “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry won’t save our lives.” Dom smeared the antibiotic ointment over the wound, his touch rough.
“I know.” Killing Vincenzo and turning down Delfina—both were grave insults. Vendettas had been waged over less, and there were many in La Provincia who would sympathize with the Andrettis if the matter came before them for resolution. Giving Dario and Carlo fancy cars or a pile of cash wouldn’t allow the Andrettis to save face. No, a deeper sacrifice was called for.
“I’m thinking about offering them the Bicocca district.” It would strengthen the Andrettis’ hold on the construction business in Milan, giving them more than half of it. “Kate is part of it—she walks away from all this and is let alone. And if she wants to stay with me, she stays.”
Dom frowned as he taped gauze over the cut. “You’re asking a lot.”
“I’ll marry Delfina as well, if necessary. But I keep Kate if she’s willing.”
“What if the Andrettis don’t accept?”
Enrico blew out a breath. He didn’t want to make the offer, but if he had to, to stop the bloodshed, to save Kate, he would. “We give them a discount on the wash.”
Dom stared at him. “You’re willing to sacrifice your precious principles?”
“I am. For her.”
Dom sat back in his chair, his mouth open. “You really do care about her.”
“What did you think? That I’d do all this on a whim?”
“I thought you’d give her up if you had to.”
“That I will not do. Not unless she desires it.”
“You would even marry her?”
“I would.” His answer, so unhesitating, surprised even him. But it was true. He loved her; he could admit that now. It wasn’t lust that drove him. It was love. It was her.
“You’re a fool. She’ll never accept you, she’ll never accept this,” Dom said, gesturing around them.
“That may be.” Enrico returned Dom’s stare. He was tired of all of this. Tired of waiting. Maybe Dario and Carlo were trying to set a trap, but this evening he was through being cautious. “Call them. Let’s get this over with.”
“You’ve changed your mind?” When Enrico nodded, Dom asked, “How deep will you go on the discount?”
“Up to five percent.” It was a significant offer. If they didn’t accept, he’d appeal to La Provincia. No one could fault his generosity.
“You know, this wouldn’t have happened if we were stronger.”
“I will not resort to drugs and prostitution to fill our coffers.”
Dom sighed. “But think of what we could do then. We could hire more men. We could drive the Andrettis out of Milan. Don’t you want that?”
Enrico’s smile was bitter. “More than anything. But not at that cost.”
“So you’ll bend the rules to save her, but not to save the rest of us? You’ll even weaken us over her.” Dom smacked his fist onto his knee. “Don’t you see what you’re doing?”
Dom was right, and at the same time, he was wrong. It wasn’t right to stoop so low to win. How could he look at himself in the mirror if he did? But he was risking them all, he couldn’t debate that. And for a woman he wasn’t even sure he could have. It was risky and foolish, and very unlike the Enrico Lucchesi he knew. But he couldn’t help himself. He wanted her, and he would win her. If it was the last thing he did.
He looked at Dom. “I see everything very clearly. And I will be the victor.”
They met the Andrettis on neutral ground, at a safe house owned by the d’Imperios. Dario and Carlo were already seated on one side of a highly polished mahogany dining table when Dom and Enrico arrived. After everyone had been searched for weapons, the guards retreated outside to wait. Dom and Enrico took seats across from the Andrettis.
Silence prevailed. Enrico ignored Carlo and looked at Dario first, his aquiline nose, generous mouth, and large dark eyes reminding him of Toni. His hair was even the same shade of blue black. Cristo. It hurt to look at him.
Dario flexed his right hand, and the missing little finger drew his gaze. He’d never spoken to Dario about that incident, all those years ago, when both of them had been caught up in the fight between their fathers. Dario was lucky he had a right hand at all, maimed though it was. He nodded in Enrico’s direction, perhaps acknowledging the debt he owed him.
Enrico held his gaze for a moment, then he turned to Carlo. He hadn’t seen him since Toni’s funeral. He looked a bit thinner, but otherwise the same—his thick silver hair combed back off his face, his sharp nose jutting above thin lips, his cream suit finely cut, his attire expensive and ostentatious. The diamond ring on the little finger of his left hand and the gold Rolex at his wrist winked in the light from the chandelier overhead.
Carlo glared at Enrico, his eyes blazing. Enrico was sure his own were hardly more neutral. Dom shifted beside him, no doubt wanting to dispel the mounting tension. But Enrico knew the value of silence. Someone else—preferably Carlo—would be the one to break it.
Carlo pulled a cigar out of his breast pocket, his movements unhurried. He clipped the end off, then lit it, taking several slow puffs until it caught the flame. Smoke curled around his face as he sat back in his chair. He contemplated the burning cigar for a moment, dragging out the wait, then he raised his eyes to Enrico’s. “So, you have the courage to meet my challenge face to face.”
Enrico bristled, but that was what Carlo wanted. He took a breath, then let it out. “That was a challenge, was it? Beating old people, terrorizing my clients. How noble of you. If you wanted to meet with me, you could’ve just asked.”
Dom nudged him, his eyes pleading with him to behave. Not bloody likely. He turned back to Carlo.
Carlo took a long drag on his cigar, then let the smoke out through his nose and mouth. “I could’ve just asked, he says.” He looked at his son. “Do you think Lucchesi would have responded to a polite request?” Dario shrugged. Carlo turned away from him with a grimace.
Enrico looked at Dario, sizing him up as a possible ally. Dom had said Dario was angry, but he didn’t seem upset. He turned his attention back to Carlo. “So what is it that you want—other than my head on a platter.”
Carlo laughed. “Your head on a platter is just the start.” He drew on the cigar, his cheeks hollowing out as he inhaled. Then he sent a stream of smoke across the table, into Enrico’s face. “Aside from that, I want you and your”—he waved his hand to indicate Dom—“ilk out of Milan.”
Enrico ignored the smoke. Carlo wouldn’t bait him so easily. “Anything else?”
Carlo’s mouth shifted into a leer. “Now that the American has shed her husband, she’ll need a new man in her bed. I am willing to oblige her.”
A surge of adrenaline sent Enrico’s heart into overdrive. “I would think you’d rather avenge Vincenzo than cuckold his memory.”
Carlo shrugged. “She already gave him the horns. What more damage could I do?” He sucked on the cigar again. “Though what you say has merit. He was my nephew.” He met and held Enrico’s gaze. “Of course, I blame you for what happened. She may have pulled the trigger, but his death was your doing. You couldn’t resist an opportunity to hurt an Andretti by stealing his wife.”
“You think I hate you that much?”
Carlo laughed, then started to cough. His voice rasped when he spoke. “Of course you do. Just as I hate you. That much.” His eyes went flat and cold on the words.
Enrico leaned forward. “Enough with the pleasantries. Why are we really here?”
Carlo set the cigar in a crystal ashtray and clasped his hands together. “As I said, I want the Lucchesi stench
out of Milan. Perhaps then I can forgive… certain transgressions.”
“Vincenzo was not my fault. He brought that on himself.”
Carlo’s voice hoarsened. “And what of my Toni? Did she deserve your mistreatment?”
“What mistreatment? I loved her, I treated her like a queen.”
“You know what you did. Your disrespect, taking that little slut into your bed when Toni was barely cold in her grave.” He stared daggers at Enrico.
A flush rose up his neck. “She’d been dead six months.”
“You couldn’t wait to replace her. To get a child by some other woman.” Carlo paused. “Of course, your own weakness thwarted those plans.”
Enrico said nothing. His teeth ground together, the muscles bunching in his jaw as Carlo continued.
“You wanted to replace her all along, didn’t you? You never loved her. All you wanted was an heir. And when she…” Carlo’s voice broke. “When she failed—” He glared at Enrico, then gathered himself. “I wouldn’t put it past you to have poisoned her.”
His mouth dropped open. “You know as well as I do she had cancer. I would never harm her. Never.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart and churning stomach. The man was insane. Enrico was on the verge of becoming irrational himself. He stood and backed away from the table, pacing a few steps before turning back. “I was devastated when she died. You know that.”
Carlo leaned back, his eyes not leaving Enrico’s. “Your conduct afterward gives the lie to your grief.”
“Fiammetta was a mistake. I admit that.” He started to say more, then stopped. “I don’t have to justify myself to you.” He sat back down. “Stop this nonsense. Either ask for something reasonable or let’s call off this charade.”
“You want me to be reasonable, do you? So like your father.” Carlo flattened his hands on the table and leaned toward Enrico. “Fine. I want the meatpacking and jewelry businesses in Milan.” He paused. “And I want the whore. Tell me, Don Lucchesi, does the thatch between her legs match that glorious red mane of hers?”
Heat blasted through Enrico. He lunged across the table, grabbing Carlo by the lapels of his fine suit and pulling him half out of his chair. “Kate is no whore. And she is mine.”
“Take your filthy hands off me.” Carlo’s voice was hard, but there was a smile on his face.
Dom put a restraining hand on Enrico’s left arm. The wound throbbed in response to the pressure. “Rico, please.”
Enrico let Carlo go with a shove that pushed him back into his chair. “You disgust me.”
Carlo straightened his suit. “Likewise.”
“This discussion is over,” Enrico said. He turned to go.
“Wait,” Dom said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s be gentlemen, shall we?” He looked at all of them in turn.
Enrico crossed his arms. “What do you propose we do? Settle this with pistols at ten paces?”
“Carlo asked for something. The woman aside, do you think it fair compensation?”
Enrico breathed in deeply. He uncrossed his arms. “Both meatpacking and jewelry? Too much.”
“My nephew’s death is no small thing.”
“You were willing to cuckold him just minutes ago. Your mourning is touching.”
Carlo waved his cigar in the air as he chuckled. “You may have a point.”
“So,” Dom said, “what can we agree on?”
“I’m willing to part with half of each. No more.”
Carlo considered it. “What of my justice regarding the woman?”
“She stays with me. And you agree her debt is paid.”
“What about my Delfina?” Dario asked.
Enrico hated his answer, but they needed a marriage to cement things. “I’ll marry her, if you still want that. But I keep Kate. Discreetly.” If she’ll still have me.
Dario looked at Carlo. Carlo puffed on his cigar, squinting against the smoke. “You can keep your whore. But Delfina must not be aware of it.”
“Are we through here?” Enrico asked.
“Add the Fiat dealership, and we’re done.”
“Agreed.”
They did not shake on the deal, settling it with curt nods.
But Enrico had the feeling nothing had been settled at all. Why hadn’t Carlo asked for a discount on the wash? Carlo’s demands had centered on territory. And Kate. That wasn’t like the man he knew. Carlo was up to something.
He conferred briefly with Dom outside the house, telling him he was taking Kate to see Don Battista.
“I don’t think our padrino is going to like the idea of you keeping her.”
“I’ll listen to what he says, but Kate stays with me, if she and I wish it.”
“You would disobey him?”
“I’ll make him understand.”
His cousin shook his head. “What has gotten into you?”
Love. That was the only answer. “I won’t be happy without her.”
Dom sighed. “When will you be back?”
“Three or four days. It depends.”
“On what?”
“On how it goes. And if my father is still there.”
“You’re flying down then?”
Enrico nodded. “I’ll let you know when we’re returning.”
“Take your time. You look tired, Rico.” Dom’s eyes were heavy with concern.
Enrico sighed and rubbed his face. “I am. More than you know.”
Dom clapped him on the back and saw him to the Mercedes. “Ciao, Rico.” They embraced, Dom squeezing him much more tightly than Enrico expected.
“So we are friends again,” Enrico said when they parted.
“We never weren’t.” Dom held his eyes. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done because you’re my brother.” His voice quavered and he coughed, then shook his head. “You have that thick Lucchesi head, you know. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t try to shake sense into you.”
Enrico nodded, his throat so tight he could barely speak. “Mille grazie, brother.” He turned and got in the car before his eyes filled with tears.
He let his head loll back against the seat as Ruggero drove them home. Hope warmed his chest. At least one good thing had come from this relentless day. He had his best friend back by his side.
He should be glad too that the fight with Carlo was over. Though the cost, the loss of Kate as his wife… it was far too much to pay. But she was safe. That was the important part.
Of course, there was no guarantee Carlo wouldn’t find another excuse to go after them, sooner or later. Or no excuse at all.
CHAPTER 18
Soon after Enrico left, Antonio strolled into the solarium, a machine gun hanging from his shoulder. Kate looked up from the papers she was transcribing, her eyes zeroing in on the weapon. Jesus, this was serious. None of the guards had ever carried a large gun inside. When Antonio saw her alarm, he said, “Do not worry, signora. The house is safe. This is….” He patted the gun, apparently not knowing the word he wanted. “It is for caution,” he finally said.
“You mean the gun is a precaution?” He nodded. She eyed the weapon, then looked out the window. In the fading light, she saw that Claudio and Santino, heavy guns slung over their shoulders, had taken positions in the garden on either side of the solarium. So much firepower, all for her.
“Is Enrico in a lot of danger?”
“Some.” He paused. “He does not have to go, but he does.”
“What do you mean?”
“He cares for his people. More than most men in his position.” She heard pride in his voice.
“You feel great loyalty to him.”
Antonio nodded. “He feels it to me, to all of us. I will do anything he asks of me.”
“Including taking a bullet for me?”
“Sì.”
“Just because he asked?”
He nodded. Then his face changed and he looked uncomfortable. “Signora, I am deeply ashamed of my behavior earlier. I was not here whe
n your husband—”
She cut him off. “You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have been here, signora. I will not neglect my duty again.”
She was about to say something in response, but he turned away, taking a post outside the open door.
Kate set her laptop aside, mulling over what Antonio had said. It was clear he admired and loved Enrico. Her own feelings weren’t so simple.
Stroking her thumb across her lower lip, she relived that last kiss. She’d surprised herself by initiating it, by saying she’d stay. She hadn’t wanted Enrico to leave without knowing… what? That she wanted him? That she would be his? Well, maybe someday. If she thought Enrico could truly love her. If she thought he could put her first in his heart….
She let out a hiss. This was madness. He was keeping things from her. And he was a dangerous man to know. Or maybe she was the dangerous one and he ought to steer clear of her. She smiled. She’d certainly trailed her problems along with her when she’d come to his home. But he hadn’t complained. And he hadn’t shied away from the danger.
Even so, some piece of all this was missing, and she needed to know it before she could commit herself in any way. She could not be nearly as trusting as Antonio.
She picked up the papers and her laptop again, trying in vain to concentrate, but she kept losing her place. Was Enrico all right? How would she feel if he wasn’t?
She didn’t know how long she’d been lost in her thoughts when Antonio’s cell phone rang. After exchanging a few clipped words with someone, he stepped back into the room. “Signor Lucchesi is returning. All is well.”
She smiled. “Thank God he’s all right.” Her hand flew to her mouth, and Antonio returned the smile.
“Sì, signora.”
The papers slipped from her lap onto the floor, and she reached down for them, her belly doing a slow roll. Enrico was okay, and she was more happy about that than she’d expected.
And on top of that, her first instinct wasn’t to run away. Far from it.
Every cell in her body was telling her to stay.
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