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“What happened, sir?”
He gave me an annoyed look then shook his head. “The woman came to my house,” he said. “Knocked on my door. When Roberto told her I was busy, she persisted, made a scene on my stoop. It was bad enough to pull me out of a meeting with Maksim. I met her in my entryway and let her scream at me for five minutes before Roberto threw her out and warned her never to come back. Can you imagine, Luca? A woman, in my house, yelling in my face like I was some child?”
I only shook my head, my jaw hanging open. Truly, I couldn’t picture it. In fact, I was pretty sure there were dead women littering the bottom of the Schuylkill River for doing exactly that.
There were whole fields of dead bodies planted like rows of corn, dead bodies of people that disrespected the Don.
“I’ll speak to her about it, sir,” I said.
“Do more than speak,” the Don said. “The girl called her mother yesterday, did you know that? I only know because Annabella screamed it in my face.”
“I didn’t know,” I said.
“Of course not. Because you’ve been down here, cooking and watching TV, while you leave the girl to her own devices upstairs. She called her mother, and now I have to deal with that loud-mouthed animal.”
“I’ll handle it, sir,” I said.
“Take her phone,” Don Leone said. “Take her phone away, and tell her that if she behaves, she can have it back.”
I nodded once. “I will, sir.”
“Good. I don’t want to hear from that woman again, and I certainly don’t want to hear that my niece is making phone calls.” He shook his head, his eyes wide with anger. He turned on his heel and walked back to the door, barely limping, barely using the cane.
I watched as he walked past Roberto and down onto the porch. Roberto gave me a wicked little smile and I flipped him off. He only chuckled and followed the Don, closing the door behind him.
“Motherfucker,” I said. “Motherfucking fucker.”
I paced around the living room as the Don got back into his car and drove off. I waited until they were well and truly gone before turning toward the stairs, my heart beating fast, a lump of anger and dread in the pit of my stomach.
I didn’t want to take the girl’s phone away. I was willing to bet that phone was one of the main things keeping her here. If I take that away, she’s going to feel like she’s trapped, and it’s basically guaranteeing she’d try and run.
But if I let her keep it, she could make more calls and make my life even harder.
Besides, the Don ordered it. Even though I think it’s the wrong move, he ordered it, and I follow orders.
“Good little soldier,” I said to myself, stomping up the stairs. “Good fucking babysitter.”
I reached her door, listened for a second, didn’t hear snoring.
I knocked hard, waited, knocked again. I heard someone moving around inside, heard the lock on the handle click. The door opened just a crack.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Good morning,” I said.
“It’s early,” she said. “I’ll come down later.”
“We need to talk.”
“I’m not in the mood for—”
I pushed the door open. She gasped in surprise as I forced her back. She stumbled, tried to push it closed, but I had momentum. I threw it all the way forward and forced my way inside. She screamed at me as I pushed her back toward the bed. She flailed, trying to hit me, trying to scratch me, but I held her arms, keeping her as far from me as possible, and threw her down onto the bed.
“Stop,” I said as she sat there, hair a mess, breathing hard.
She wore a tight black tank top, no bra underneath, showing off her gorgeous breasts. She had on just a pair of small gray shorts, barely long enough to cover her thick ass. Her fingers clenched the sheets and I knew she wanted to throw herself at me, but she held back.
“Get out,” she said. “Get out, you asshole.”
“You called your mother,” I said.
That stopped her. She looked at me, a hint of surprise in her eyes, before she narrowed her gaze gain.
“So what?” she asked.
“So, she went to the Don’s house last night,” I said. “Do you have any idea how fucking stupid that was?”
More surprise hit her. She relaxed her hands and sat forward, staring up at me.
“Is she okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, she’s fine,” I said. “The Don didn’t hurt her, just made sure she got home. But goddamn it, Clair. What were you thinking?”
“She needed to know,” she said. “If I didn’t tell her, she would’ve gotten worried.”
“You didn’t need to tell her you were here.”
“I’m not going to lie to my mother.”
