Page 31 of By Blade, I Love
I continued to study him to see if he would elaborate, but it didn’t seem like anything else would be forthcoming. “Did—did he do something else to them?”
He rose from the chair and left his coffee behind. “Let’s get ready. I need to speak to Don Russo.”
And I knew the conversation was over.
Like the last time we came here, Wolfe pulled past the gates and parked directly in the courtyard, where there were only a handful of cars. Cosa Nostra was a huge organization and all their cars couldn’t fit here without a three-story parking garage, so I wasn’t sure how everyone else got to work each day. Maybe they walked from their nearby homes or took a taxi. Or maybe they just parked on the street, and the police knew not to ticket their vehicles. But Wolfe parked right in the front, like he really was the man in charge…or almost in charge.
He took my hand and walked me through the double doors, exchanging pleasantries with the guys he met along the way. No one looked at me or acknowledged me in any way, almost as if they weren’t supposed to.
The inside of the villa felt more like a luxury hotel than the grounds of an organized crime headquarters. There were paintings on the walls and large sculptures in the hallways, more a museum than a fortress. The ceiling had crown molding, and despite being inhabited by a bunch of men all day long, it was spotless.
It reminded me of my father’s villa but on a much grander scale, with a full-time staff to clean and cook and run the place on Don Russo’s behalf. The hallways were wide enough for five men to walk side by side, and long runners covered the Sicilian tile that peeked out on the edges.
Wolfe seemed to know exactly where he was going without announcing himself to anyone. After a couple more staircases and hallways, he approached a room with two tall double doors guarded by two heavily armed men.
“Boss knows I’m coming,” Wolfe said.
The men looked at each other before they let Wolfe inside without further interrogation.
We entered a grand office that was as large as a formal living room. There was an imposing mahogany desk, a wall covered in paintings behind it and a bookshelf with old tomes.
Did crime lords read a lot?
Don Russo was pacing around his desk while on the phone. He talked low so we wouldn’t be able to overhear before he finishedthe conversation and hung up. He tossed the phone onto the desk and looked at Wolfe. “What have you heard?” His eyes glanced past Wolfe to where I stood behind him, and then his eyes returned to Wolfe. “Perhaps the lady should wait in the garden.”
“She’s fine,” Wolfe said. “She’s as involved in this as we are at this point.”
Don Russo sat at the edge of the desk and crossed his arms over his chest, just the way my dad used to. “Very well.”
I moved to one of the couches and took a seat that faced the fireplace. It was just cold stone at the moment because there was no reason to have a fire in the heat of summer.
Wolfe faced Don Russo, still a behemoth of a man even in this enormous room. “Leo told me Warren is teaming up with Icarus to take us down. His ambition is to run operations in Sicily on the king’s behalf. We’ve got to hit Warren now, so they won’t be able to solidify this alliance. The second those two team up, we’re done for.”
Don Russo didn’t react to this information at all.
Wolfe continued to stare him down. “Hear what I say?”
“Yes. But how certain are you this information is reliable?”
Wolfe crossed his arms over his chest.
“Once a rat, always a rat.”
Wolfe didn’t say anything to that.
“This might be another setup.”
“Maybe,” Wolfe said. “But I don’t believe it is.”
Don Russo stared at Wolfe through his glasses for a moment before he pulled them off his face. He had a mustache and a beard with eyes as dark as oil. He released a sigh as he looked at the fireplace. “He betrayed his own family. I don’t trust a word out of that rat’s mouth.”
Wolfe was quiet for a while as he considered what to say. “I think he’s telling the truth—not because he regrets what he did, but because he’s Warren’s prisoner. We have the same interests in this matter. He told me he’s been forced out of his home and has no say in the business. He’s lost everything.”
“Unless Warren promised him something if he tricks you.”
Wolfe shook his head. “No. Leo learned his lesson the first time. He’s under constant supervision, and if he steps out of line at all, he’s dead. I stood there and watched him cry in a little shop. The tears were real.”
Don Russo gave another sigh. “We almost died yesterday.”
