CHAPTER VI

Dante’s POV.

No one knows what happened to Caterina Caruso.

But that’s not important. What matters is that I have

her

now. Lucy. As she liked to call herself. I tried not to scoff out loud. As if I’ll call her that name when she has that face. Whatever. The truth will soon come to the surface and the traitors will pay. Caterina will come back to me and everything will fall into their rightful places. However long it takes.

Only patience isn’t a virtue that most men in my line of work possess. The empire that my father and I built with blood since I was 10 is being threatened. Especially with the entrance of the Russian mob in the city. As if we don’t have enough on our plate trying to keep the peace with the other families and hunting the damn rats crawling among us.

Caterina definitely knew something about it. Why else would she disappear that night?

After I got a call from Caleb, one of my trusted guards, that Caterina had gone insane, I rushed to the house only to find out she’s smashing the brand-new kitchenware on the wall. In my family, that’s just every Sunday night.

The entire scene was comical if not for the fact that she’s barefooted and was still blonde. She looked the same as I remembered Caterina, beautiful and broken but still just as lovely as camellias in winter. But the hair. For some reason that blonde color on her got on my nerves more than anything.

I didn’t want to leave her locked inside my room. But in the state that she was in? She’s nowhere near ready to fulfill her role. I could push her into it, she has no choice in the matter anyways, but even I know she’d break in the process.

Fuck. I need a cigarette.

I swiped one from the tin splayed on the mahogany desk and lit it, listening quietly as my father negotiated with Al De Rocco, one of the bosses of the Old Families. I already knew it wasn’t going to end well. The two hated each other. There wasn’t even history there. They met and just instantly knew they wouldn’t be golfing together in the long run. More than that, Old Bosses like Al hated doing business with the “new” guys like my father. 

When I left them earlier to check on Caterina, they were talking about the Russians. Now that I came back, the conversation still revolved around them. Nothing gets done with these two fucking sizing each other up every meeting.

After another unsuccessful discussion over the elections, Al pushed a large brown envelope to him. “I received an intel.” 

Rio Romano grunted as he perused the contents. He passed the envelope to me and I just gave it a quick glance before blowing a smoke in the heavily tensed air, bored out of my mind.

Another hit put on an unsuspecting candidate.

 “Did he have something to do with the massacre?” My father asked even though the answer was obvious, the four walls of his office were practically screaming it.

“No. But the Russians want him out before they send out the shipments.”

“Who the hell do they think they are giving orders to us to do their dirty laundry? Are they too much of a cunt to handle a fucking gun?”

“They want Dante. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

Al’s eyes flickered to me. I didn’t say anything because I already suspected that they’d want me to do the job. I’ve been putting out hits for my father since I was a kid. Although, it’s a little concerning that Sokolov knew that.

“Is Argento done hiding in Wall street? Where does he stand with this Russian business?”

“I haven’t met the man in months. He might as well be dead.”

My father scoffed. “As if those corporate assholes will let that happen.” He shook his head. “Fucking Russians. Demanding, the lot of them. They don’t even have a chip in our business yet.”

“They’re careful. They don’t want to make deals with a snake in the midst. Even they know that much.”

“If they know that fucking much why don’t they find the fucker themselves? Information is their specialty, yeah?”

“They don’t want to get in between what is clearly Italian business.”

“They wouldn’t be if I put a bullet in Anton Sokolov’s head.”

Al pursed his lips. Being the oldest in this business and the fact that he was still alive past the age of 70 gained respect from everyone but my father was the most powerful don in the city presently. He could hate us all he wants but we all know he needs our resources.

“Careful, Romano, or I’d start to think that you’d lead us to a war that will cost us everything we worked hard for.”

Before this could escalate, I stood up, stumped out the cigarette on the ashtray, and grabbed the envelope.

“Are we done here?”

My father merely grunted and I immediately took my exit before he could question me what kind of business I had run off to earlier that interrupted this shit meeting. 

Simple. I hadn’t told him nor the Old Bosses about the woman I picked off from the street. Keeping things from the don is one thing but lying to all the bosses could easily put me to their hit list. That is, if they are brave enough to make an enemy of me.  Especially when it comes to the sole witness of the massacre of two of the powerful old families. 

If the information reached them that I was keeping the witness from them, they’d think I was suspecting them and the real traitors could escape again and worse, they will try to kill her. For a bunch of murderers, they can be sensitive at times. And they say women are too emotional. 

I did plan to tell them. Eventually. When she’s finally ready.

I waited by the curb to watch Al and his guards get inside the car. Ever since the notorious wipe off of the Caruso and Vero family not too long ago, the remaining three Old Bosses had been on guard ever since. It was safe to say that none of them was the traitor. Their shitty organization put so much honor on their pact that is older than my father. The rat couldn’t be Al.

But a slaughter of that scale could also mean an inside job. Words don’t hold much weight these days.

My phone rang, breaking off my musings. Leo’s name flashed through the screen.

“Romano,” he greeted with the last name as usual.

“What the fuck is it this time?”

“Have you seen it?”

“Obviously not so, why don’t you quit the suspense and tell me?” I leaned comfortably against the wall. 

With this guy, I could never tell if it is urgent like the FBI-is-on-your-ass kind of situation or urgent like you-didn’t-see-how-big-that-chick’s-ass-was.

“I’ll send it to you.”

Not a second later, I received a link from him. It opened to a Fictus Daily article.

I straightened up, all nonchalance gone.

Caruso heiress materializes: Is she still the same?

According to the bullshit article, Caterina was kept prisoner in my house and apparently lost her memories.

Motherfucker.