Page 73 of My Sunfall

D leans back in his chair, expression darkening. “We all go.”

I shake my head. “No, he said he wanted to meet me alone. To talk.”

“Sounds like a trap,” Teo growls as D declares, “You’re not meeting him without backup.”

“Relax,” I tell them, sliding my phone over the tabletop so they can read the message thread. “Look at the address. Either he is very dumb, or he is very confident. Either way, it looks like someone finally decided to step into the light,” I say.

And whatever game this is, things just got interesting.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Lucas

Two days later, at the agreed time, I walk into Luce Nera, a bar owned by the famiglia. Even though this is not my usual haunt I know this place well, and moreover, everyone here knows me. Why Niccolò Vitale would choose this place to meet me is beyond me.

I spot him immediately, sitting at the far wall and nursing a glass. I walk up to his table and sit down opposite him, taking him in. He looks younger than in the pictures Teo showed us. But even sitting I can guess that he must be tall. His suit jacket stretches over broad shoulders, hinting to someone exercising regularly. His jaw is angular and clean-shaven, and his dark hair is tousled, giving him a boyish look. Out of context he would look like the college star quarterback. But his gray eyes are sharp as they look at me without fear. He doesn’t flinch when I pull out my gun to lay it on the table with the nuzzle pointed toward him. Nor does he seem bothered when the twenty other patrons in the bar imitate me and lay their guns on their table. His lips curl upward as he takes an unhurried sip from his glass, and I am impressed by his self-control despite his young age.

He holds up his glass in greeting. “This is one hell of a good whiskey,” he drawls.

I don’t reply immediately. I watch him closely, automatically looking for the usual signs of weakness and desires that make people tick. But the fucker is good despite his youth, his face and demeanor are giving nothing away.

“You picked the wrong bar, kiddo,” I taunt after a long silence.

He smirks again and slowly shakes his head. “Nope, I’m exactly where I wanted to meet you. As for the other part, you’re barely a decade older than me…gramps.”

I scoff, amused. This kid has grit, I’ll give him that.

“What’s this about?” I ask without preamble.

His face sobers and he puts his glass down, still calm and unbothered. “It seems that we have a common…acquaintance. The kind that could become a problem if not taken care of.”

“And?” I ask, guessing immediately who he means.

“I think we can help each other.”

I narrow my eyes. “Why not reach out to the head of the famiglia, if an alliance is what you’re after?”

“Because”—he pins me with his gaze—“it seems that you have a personal stake in the matter.”

I watch him for several seconds and he stares right back, unafraid, but face open. I huff, pick up my gun, sliding it into my holster before leaning back in silence. The waiter hurriedly brings me my regular tumbler of whiskey, and I take a pensive sip, weighting my words.

“What exactly are you saying?” Let him reveal his cards first.

He shrugs. “Just what I know—our acquaintance wants something from this city, and it seems to be tied to a woman. A woman who incidentally is your wife.”

Chiara.

My grip tightens around the glass even if I force my face to remain impassible. “What does he want from her?”

Niccolò shakes his head. “This, I don’t know. He is keeping me away from business.”

“And yet, here you are,” I drawl.

“Yet, here I am,” he concedes.

“Why?”

He leans forward. “This seems big. Bigger than anything he has been involved with before. We can…help each other. It looks like we could agree on a common ground. You don’t have any interest in him taking your wife away, and I feel like I don’t either. It’s a win-win.”