Dante inhales sharply and moves to step back around his desk, finding his ass planted once again in his leather chair.
“Yeah, that about sums up how I feel,” I grumble.
“You know they’re family. We protect our own.”
His words don’t reassure me. “Right, because she can be protected at Evergreen University without constant surveillance and a bodyguard.”
My father raises an eyebrow, and I hold up a hand. “I will not subject my son or my wife to that type of intrusion. I’d rather her not know of the threats. There’s no reason to worry her if Massimo is dead. Ashton took quite a few shots at him.”
“I’ll have my men follow his progress, make sure if he’s still alive, we know where he is at all times.”
Does he really think that’s enough?
“Massimo will send his goons out if he plans on hurting my family. He’s not foolish enough to do the job himself.”
“You’re right, son. Massimo has years of doing deeds far worse than anything I’ve considered doing.”
I swallow the last of the scotch and slam the glass on his desk. “Is that why you insisted on sending Ashton and me tonight?”
Dante flinches. “I wanted you to see what we’re up against. The kinds of men who are truly evil.”
“He traffics women, and children too.” I pace the small length of his office, unable to sit, still thinking about what was interrupted tonight. “He was intending to move girls through the cabin, wasn’t he? I saw a door in the basement. Was it a tunnel?”
Dante rubs at his jaw and sighs. “We believe so, but none of us ventured as close as it seems you’ve gotten. He has been trafficking girls, children, if you will, and I thought that perhaps you witnessing it firsthand might bend you to see that our business dealings aren’t all bad. We aren’t the villain in every story.”
I glare at my father. “No, you’re sure as hell the villain. Massimo is just another, dare I say worse. It doesn’t make me feel better, and knowing those girls you speak of—where are they? Because they didn’t show up last night.”
“He likely called off the exchange. I’m sure he has them holed up someplace else. He has other locations that he’s using to make the trade, we just haven’t uncovered all of them yet.”
“Trade? Trade for what?” I can’t seem to wrap my head around all of the details. It’s like he gives me bits and pieces when he already knows the whole damn story.
“Weapons. Money. Whatever he needs, the girls are just a form of currency to him. It’s the same shit your grandfather Gino was involved with until he died. The business went underground, moved away from our area for a while, but it seems they’re back, doing the same insidious work they’ve always done.”
“We have to stop them.”
Dante hides the hint of a smile playing at his lips. “Yes, that’s precisely what I was hoping you’d say, son.”
Five
Harper
Luca stretches out on the couch. He’s been playing the whole sick baby routine for nearly a week, since he got back from his parents’ house.
He blamed it on the weather, catching a cold.
Except he doesn’t have any signs of any sickness that I’ve ever seen. Unless lazy is a type of sick.
But Luca has never been lazy, certainly not when it comes to hockey.
Weirder still is that he took one of Dante’s cars home. Luca complained about his car having transmission issues and Dante wanting to ensure that he had reliable transportation.
Luca has kept his distance from me and, at first, I thought it was because he might have actually been sick. While I didn’t hear any sniffles or sneezes, I figured he might have had a monster sore throat, and I didn’t want to catch it or him to give it to Zeke.
So, I slept in Zeke’s room, which just started up the entire climbing back into bed with me routine that I’d been trying to break with my son.
“What do you mean you aren’t playing hockey tonight?” Liam glances from Ashton to Luca. “You can’t stay home; we’ll lose without you. It’s the NCAA Regionals. We need you so that we can get to the Frozen Four.”
“He’s sick. He can’t play.” Ashton vouches for him, which has me wondering what the hell happened, because last week, Luca and Ashton were at each other’s throats.