Page 52 of Love Me (Touch of Death 3)
Despite the agony, I smile. He’s cracking, and I want to be there when he’s torn apart.
16
Sasha
Lorenzo sits at Gabriella’s desk, his gaze distant as he clutches a glass of whiskey. He’s supposed to be running the family business in Adelina’s stead, now that Gabriella is dead. Though truthfully, I think her death has hit the old man a lot harder than he would admit. Sometimes, mid-conversation, he does this—just drifts off and stares into space. To add to the troubles, all the Ricci clients are bailing, sensing that their supply chain may not be the most secure. And guess who is there to pick up the pieces? Bianchi is pillaging everything that was once theirs, taking it for his own.
He has an ever-growing foothold here in Sicily, dominating the competition. I know for a fact that Nero doesn’t like it. He’s watched from the sidelines, waiting to see how this will play out, all the while, quietly backing Bianchi’s enemy, the only ones who stood a chance of beating him. Look at what it’s cost them now.
Gabriella is dead. Adelina is married to the guy, enduring who knows what under his roof. It’s all gone to shit. And me? I feel lost, broken, and completely at a loss as to what I should be doing anymore. I want so badly to go after him and kill him, but as Una pointed out, if I fail, then I’ll only succeed in revealing I’m alive and endangering Adelina. I’m forced to wait on Nero for a plan and reinforcements. There’s nothing else I can do.
The phone on the desk rings, the sound cutting through the silence that has settled over the room. Lorenzo blinks as though coming out of a trance and answers it.
“Yeah?” A pause. “Okay, let her in.” He places the receiver down and looks at me, a line sinking between his brows. “Una Ivanov is here.”
Una’s here? Now? I push to my feet and cut through the house, exiting through the side door. I round the corner of the villa in time to see several SUVs pull up in front of the destroyed front porch. A rear door is thrown open, and one booted foot touches the ground before Una comes into sight. She props a hand on her hip, long, silvery-blond hair hanging over her shoulder in a braid. She’s dressed head to toe in black, weapons strapped to her everywhere. This isn’t a social visit. Men start disembarking from the vehicles around her, unloading weapons and supplies. The picturesque gardens of the Ricci villa quickly look like the preparation for a war zone.
Una strides over to me. “Sasha.”
“Una. Why are you here?”
Her bright red lips press together before she moves past me. “Walk with me.”
I turn, suspicion eating away at me as I follow her through the gardens.
She walks with purpose, her spine rigid. “The situation with Bianchi has gone on long enough.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
She stops and turns to face me. “Nero seemed content with the fact that he was dead, but now Bianchi is alive, and Nero is being impossible.”
I cock a brow, failing to see what this has to do with anything.
“He offered both the Ricci sisters an alliance, believing that Adelina could handle Enrique, and Nero would have a foothold in Sicily.”
I glance out over the carpet-like grass, hating that Adelina and her sister are both no longer here, and yet the house and grounds all continue to flourish without them.
“So, you’re here for business, nothing else?”
“Gabriella is dead. The Ricci family hangs by a thread, and the only remaining member is married to Bianchi. With Gabriella gone, he’s now taking all her customers. He just made a deal with one of the biggest purchasers of guns in Africa—one of Eduardo Ricci’s old friends.”
“I’m aware of all that, but why does any of this effect Nero?”
“Enrique attacked our home. From that moment, Nero was always going to destroy him.”
“Then why not just get on with it? Why has he hidden in New York, letting Adelina do his work for him?” I’m annoyed that to both of them, Adelina has and always will be a pawn.
She’s an innocent girl, barely able to comprehend the scale of what she’s now in the middle of, and yet their blatant disregard for her safety is very apparent. I always thought I would have Una’s loyalty as she has had mine, but I feel betrayed here.
“The boss of the Italian mafia cannot simply take out a Sicilian family head,” she snaps.
“And yet, here you are.”
“Yes, me. The Kiss of Death, Una Ivanov, alone. Independent. Nero cannot be directly involved in this.”
“Why not? It’s Nero. Don’t tell me he cares for the rules.”
He certainly didn’t care when Nicholai took Una. He literally killed Russian women and children to get her back. Where were his politics then?
