“And to hear him tell it,” D’Amato goes on, “Orsini’s done him no harm.”
Finch gives me a piercing look that makes me almost as uncomfortable as his husband’s. “Oh, is that right?”
I stare right back at him. “Dami offered me protection. I took it.”
There’s no way I’m going to admit to these two exactly what that protection looked like. If I can persuade them to let me go, I can keep doing what I planned, and find my people before tracking down my cousin, Tiberius Vicario. But I can’t tell that to Luca D’Amato. He’s not going to allow the resurrection of my Family, not for all his falsely friendly gestures.
“If you keep telling me that Orsini has been protecting you,” D’Amato says softly, “then I’ll be forced to hand you back to him, Cal. To assuage my own fears for your safety.”
Shit.
“Nothing would please me more,” I say, just before the pause becomes too long. “I was drugged and kidnapped off the street by my grandfather’s killer. I’m afraid for my life. All I want is to go back to Dami’s house. I’m sure he’s frantic with worry.”
“Well,” Finch says acerbically, “I guess hedidpay a cool ten mill for you. I’d be worried if that kind of money walked out the door, too.”
Heat climbs up my neck. “He has been a very generous host,” I say stiffly. “The ten million was put into trust for me?—”
“By the Bratva,” Finch breaks in flatly.
I can kiss that ten million goodbye, after threatening Daniel King as I did. Not to mention being involved in the death of his friend. But that’s the least of my problems right now. I need to get away from the D’Amatos.
“Dami also bought me my grandfather’s townhouse as a gift,” I counter. “He had no reason to do that except kindness.”
They don’t believe me. But they don’tnotbelieve me. And I can see a way to thread this needle that might get me everything I need, everything I want,andshow Damiano Orsini just how unwise he was to try outwitting a Clemenza.
“Why not call him here,” I say, “and ask him yourself? Bring in his Boss, too, the Giuliano Don. We might as well get it all out in the open.”
Luca D’Amato raises his eyebrows and glances at Finch, who shrugs. “I’ll make a few calls,” D’Amato says.
“Great,” I say, and I pull up a smile from somewhere. “I can’t wait for Dami to get here.”
Let’s hope the man has more sense than to try to kill me the second he lays eyes on me.
CHAPTER 5
DAMIANO
When I climbinto the back of Big Gee’s armored Jeep, I half expect him to put a lead slug in my head. But he just glares at me as I settle back on the bench opposite him, where he’s wedged in between two of his bodyguards. There’s barely enough room for all of us. His three guards—Paulie, Meatball, and some new guy whose name I haven’t bothered learning—are all around my size, but size is their only advantage. They’re large enough for Big Gee to duck behind, but they’re not smart.
The Boss stares at me in silence as we pull out into the traffic. “You really love fucking me over, don’t you, Orsini?” he says at last.
After the phone call, when he asked why the hell Luca D’Amato was calling us in for an early morning meeting, and I explained about the Russian I killed, I expected a lot worse. Screaming. Threats. The usual. What I got was a long silence, and then Big Gee telling me he’d handle it.
Handle it. Like it was a parking ticket.
He was more worried about the meeting with the Morelli Boss. That’s what he was calling about in the first place, to tell me he was on his way to pick me up for a face-to-face with D’Amato.
“This Bratva thing,” he says now. “The guy was a degenerate and everyone knew it. Nobody’s going to start a war over that piece of shit.” He leans forward, making Paulie shuffle sideways as he spreads his legs wider. “No. That’s not why D’Amato called this meeting. So tell me, you been treating that Clemenza kid right?”
“The Clemenza’s grateful. He’s been telling me that the whole time.” I’m not going to tell Big Gee that the Clemenza is gone. Not yet. Because I’m watching his face, and what I see there isn’t anger. It’sfear. Big Gee is scared of Luca D’Amato, and that’s a problem. Fear makes men stupid.
“Yeah, well, he betterkeeptelling everybody that.” Big Gee jabs a finger at me. “That whore of yours better be the most grateful little?—”
“He’s not my whore,” I say fiercely, before I can stop myself. Big Gee’s eyebrows go up. The new guy coughs into his fist. I backtrack fast. “He’s an asset, Boss. That’s all. I got him under control.”
“You better,” Big Gee mutters. But he’s looking at me differently now, and I don’t like it. Big Gee’s been jumpy as a cat lately. Paranoid, even. Not without cause, I guess, given what I did last night at the Obelisk.
Maybe D’Amato has it in for us. Maybe that’s why Big Gee is looking so jittery. If it feels like cement shoes are in my future, I’ll have to do something about it. I’m not going down, not before I find that golden snake. I can take out several men with my Beretta, and rely on my hands to do the rest.