It doesn’t matter how many shots of espresso I drink, I can still taste her. I need the caffeine though; I can’t remember the last time I had a decent night’s sleep. I clunk the empty cup on my brother’s desk, hoping the shot of energy will make me somewhat functional.
Ari and I have a raft of shit to discuss, and visions of Lena’s naked body spread out across my desk and her delicate fist stroking my dick aren’t helping.
Especially since he’s going to be fucking pissed when I tell him the situation has changed.
“Vaffanculo! Non ne posso più!” Ari storms into his office, slamming the door behind him.
Okay, make thatreallyfucking pissed.
“We should just kill them all now. Burn their whole fucking compound to the ground.” Ari drops a stack of papers on the desk. “Look at this shit. Un-fucking-believable.”
He tosses himself into his chair and I start sifting through what turns out to be photos. At least twenty of them. They’re black and white, decent quality. Sharp enough I can make out facial features, identifying characteristics. The shades oftattoos, the outlines of concealed weapons. Last night, with my face between Lena’s willing thighs, I was able to distract myself from the war my family is waging. These photos are the hit of reality I need, the stark reminder to get my head back into the game.
A game I can’t forget Lena might still be a part of, no matter how intoxicating she tastes.
“What are these?” I ask.
“The evidence that’s going to send three more of our guys to jail.” Rage and frustration are clear on my brother’s face. He scrubs his palms across his features, exhibiting a rare display of emotion. “The cops picked them up last night. Our lawyers just send these over.”
“Fuck.” I flip through the photos again, trying to make out faces. “Who got arrested?”
“Salvatore, Carm, and Cutty.”
Double fuck.
“Two taken outside the club, one inside the casino. The chief of police didn’t even have the fucking courtesy to call and give me a head’s up. And that fucker thinks we’re going to keep donating to his reelection campaign…” Ari spews out curses in Italian, each more threatening than the last.
When he runs out of vitriol I ask, “What do the lawyers say?”
“Nothing useful. Unlike before, the charges are all for petty crimes. Nothing that will keep our guys locked up for more than a year or two.”
“Well, that’s fucking brilliant.” I throw the photos onto Ari’s desk. “Just enough time for our soldiers to be off the streets and our forces depleted when the Paganos make their move.”
“Like that asshole Rocco Pagano ever had a brilliant idea in his life. What a cluster. I still vote we burn them to the ground. What do you say,fratellino?”
Ari is Aldo’s underboss, which makes him my boss. We’vealways been close, both in age and as brothers, and he always considers my opinion when we’re making major moves. He trusts my instincts. At least for the moment. “As much as I’d love to see them rotting in the ground, we can’t kill them until we know how they’re taking down our men. We need proof they’re falsifying evidence and passing it on to the DA or we’ll never get the charges dropped. We can’t afford to have so many foot soldiers locked up, a hard fact that you, I, and Rocco Pagano know very well.”
Ari picks up a letter opener from his desk. A gift from Marco, Aldo’s late brother and former underboss. The man who taught Ari everything he knows. My brother twists it between his fingers, and I know just how lethal that tiny, dull blade can be in his capable hand. “On a related subject—tell me about the girl. Have you done enough surveillance to be convinced that Aldo and I are right? With all this other shit hanging over us”—he waves at the photos strewn across his desk—“we need that situation handledvelocemente.”
The girl. Lena. The woman I left asleep, naked in my bed, the only place I could think of putting her after we gave each other such fucking satisfying orgasms. I have to actively stop myself from shifting in my chair. “The situation with the Haywood woman is ongoing.”
Ari keeps spinning the letter opener. “For how much longer, Rem? You’ve been on her tail for almost two months, even though Aldo’s evidence is crystal fucking clear. She’s working with them, brother. She’s part of this whole racket. We have to deal with her the same way we have to deal with the rest of those fuckers. For the sake of our family.”
Ari’s watching me, his calm demeanor back in place, as shatter-proof as ever. No signs of the frustration he let me glimpse when he came in. My cold, calculating brother. As much a Cerreti as I am, despite us being born Cosenzas. And, just like me, he knows how to hit where it hurts.
For the sake of our family.
“I know what’s at stake,fratello,” I say, my tone as hard as his demeanor. “As clearly as you do. But we have rules. Codes we live by, unlike the fucking Paganos. And I’m not going to take out a woman until I know for fucking sure she’s a genuine threat. End of story.”
“We’re on a clock, Rem. We both know it.”
“Yes, yes. I fucking know.” Aldo’s been out of the country for months and the Paganos seem to be tightening their noose around our organization more and more with every passing day. Ourcapogoes away on business and these lowlifes suddenly grow the balls to try to take us down. It would be comical if they weren’t somehow succeeding in getting our men thrown in jail.
“You promised us you’d handle it,” Ari says, the blade of the letter opener twirling faster and faster between his fingers. “Aldo trusts you. I trust you. You know this. Which is why I agreed to hold Aldo off and let you do the additional surveillance in the first place. But she’s a weak fucking link in their plan and we have to capitalize on that.”
“But what if she isn’t involved at all?”
The tiny blade stops spinning. “She has to be.”