The rumors about Aurora being in love with someone else were true. It was her chauffeur, but her father didn’t approve. It seems she’ll get what she wants now.
“The Enzino family is fucking done. Art is not interested in keeping the family going.” Marco looks at me.
I shake my head. Nope, he wants to become a Nero—or will want to, I’ll make him want to. The thought makes me almost growl with anticipation.
“We are going to keep weeding out the rest of the Enzinos. I need you both on this.” Seb looks at us, and we nod. We are good at weeding out two-faced fuckers.
“Enzino’s turf has been divided between Leone and Coretti, seventy-thirty. I want to give you some of it to take care of.”
“For real?” Marco asks, as surprised as I am.
A territory I’m solely in charge of. I fucking like that.
“I can’t take care of it all by myself. I need my right and left hands with me,” Seb simply explains, raising his palms in the air. It’s something Don Massimo always used to say to us.
“I’ll do my best,” I tell Seb, grabbing the full glass of wine from the desk and clinking it against theirs.
I would be utterly exhilarated about it if we didn’t have a very big loose end.
“Until Enzino is out of the picture, we all are in danger, so keep your eyes peeled,” Seb states with dark eyes.
“That old snake isn’t going to just lie and die,” Marco grunts.
I growl. “Then we’ll need to behead him once and for all.”
Art
Nicky runs to the bathroom, followed by Nacho, and I let my back drop against the chair. Kids are a handful, even if they are cute as a button. The drawing room is filled with toys Nicky carried from his room that he wanted to show to us, the cutie pie. I look at the table littered with half of Fly’s shit from his Mary Poppins bag. A little mouse doll, a pair of chopsticks, a small watering can, and a feather duster aren’t the craziest things he carries around.
“Why do you have a stone polisher?” I lift the object, but he’s too concentrated on finishing the bracelet Nicky braided for me.
“To polish stones,” he deadpans.
“What stones?” I look inside his bag, not seeing any.
“Stop judging my bag choices.” He lifts his head to glare at me. “Did you like your gun?”
I pout not liking the change of topic, but go with it. “It’s little, but easy to carry.”
“I’m sure that’s why Seb chose it.” He points at my small purse, hanging on the back of the chair.
“Is he that observant?” I ask, pushing the toy train on the rails.
“Maniacally. He sees and knows all.”
Everything? Does he know about my suspicions then? About his father?
“Does he know I peed a little when I saw this house?” I flail my arms around the huge drawing room.
It’s a Victorian house with steep roofs, white and gray-painted bricks, bay windows, a wide porch, and an asymmetrical facade. The stained glass creates a radiant, glowing effect on the richly detailed interiors. Wooden floorboards, plaster cornicing, sweeping staircases, and tiled entrance hallways. This house is truly something else. I can feel the history in every brick.
“It was Don Massimo’s. Luca and Marco used to live here. Their rooms are still on the third floor.
“I want to see Luca’s! Maybe even let him ream and cream me on his old bed.” Oh, that’s hot. We are definitely going to do it in his childhood bedroom. “That baseball-bat-sized dick needs some illicit fun.”
Fly scrunches his nose. “Does he have the holy grail of D’s?”
“Yes, my friend. My holy crusade came to a successful end the day I met Luca’s shtick.”