Ardan rolled his eyes with a laugh.
Chapter Ten
Gabriel didn’t know how he felt approaching Elio Folliero about the situation, but if it kept his family safe, he knew he had to do it. Ardan promised him Elio knew what he was doing.
“He’s young, but smart and business savvy. He wouldn’t hesitate to do what he needs to in order to keep his business safe,” Ardan had said in the car.
Now they were standing in front of a brown brick building that didn’t look worth much, but probably cost well into the millions of dollars, especially here on the Upper East side of New York City. The small courtyard was swarming with men in black suits carrying handguns, as anyone would expect at a mafia boss’s home, and surveillance cameras were situated along the fence line as well as around the building.
A man with short dark curly hair and a scowl met them at the front door. Displeasure danced across his handsome face, his strong jaw tensed tightly. He had olive skin and a short, well-kept beard, and was dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and black tie. His shoes were so shiny Gabriel expected them to blind him when the sun reflected off them.
“Mr. Murphy,” the man greeted, holding out his hand. “It’s been a while.”
Ardan slid his palm into the well-dressed man’s and shook it. “Mr. Scotti. Pleasure as usual. This is Gabriel Mancini. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” Ardan waved his spare hand toward Gabriel, who inclined his head in a hello.
“I have and I’m sure the rumors don’t lie. I’m Matteo Scotti, the underboss of the Folliero family and Elio’s advisor. Welcome to our home. Please come in.” He released Ardan’s hand and turned on his shiny heels, striding through a clean white set of doors into a classy foyer that was stacked with Italian architecture, while also keeping some of the classics of the old home.
The wooden beams looked freshly polished and almost new, but it was obvious they were from when the home was originally built. The white tiles glimmered under the lights on the plum-colored walls. A grand staircase, with marble steps, led up to the second floor, and potted plants decorated either side of the handrails at every third step.
“Elio is in his office. Please come with me.” Matteo led the way through a door to the left and down a hallway until he came to the third door on the right. The floor through here was more tiles and the walls had changed to a seafoam green. He knocked once and opened it, stepping out of the way so Ardan and Gabriel could enter.
A young man, who looked to be about twenty-five, sat in one of the armchairs in the middle of the room. There were two other seats, the same color purple as his own, and between them sat a coffee table with three cans of unopened Coke.
Elio stood, greeting Ardan with a handshake, and while his attention focused on the assassin, Gabriel studied him. He looked very much like his father, with the same black hair cut short to his head and handsome, angular face. His eyes were different though, with a more almond shape, and while the ex Folliero boss had brown eyes like a lot of Italians Gabriel knew, Elio had blue. Unlike Matteo, Elio was wearing dark jeans and a white T-shirt with a simple black jacket over the top. There wasn’t anything fancy about his clothes and he certainly didn’t give the appearance of a crime family boss.
Elio shook Ardan’s hand for too long, leaned in too close for Gabriel’s liking. He laughed, but it sounded too flirtatious.
Matteo closed the door behind him and cleared his throat, eyes narrowed suspiciously and lips pursed. “Sir….” There was something hard in his gaze, and Gabriel didn’t miss the way it narrowed in on Elio and Ardan’s connected hands. Gabriel felt the same way, though. Jealousy spiked in his chest and he pushed down the urge to shove Elio away from Ardan.
“Oh, right.” Elio released Ardan’s hand and waved at the chairs set up. “Please take a seat.” He then turned to Gabriel with a small smile that had a hint of danger to it. “Mr. Mancini, welcome back to New York. I should kill you for stepping a foot in my city, but Ardan promises there’s a reason you betrayed my uncle.”
Gabriel didn’t bow his head to this little shit, merely strode past him to steal the seat next to Ardan. He opened one of the cans, the release of pressure in it giving him a moment of satisfaction before he took a sip, holding back a cringe. He hated the nondiet shit, but he was here to make a point.
Ardan rolled his eyes, while Elio took the third armchair, leaning back into it.
“Nice decorating,” Gabriel said, waving around the room at the dark purple walls with more art, and the light plum carpet. To the far end was a dark wooden desk with an office chair and behind that was a wall of bookcases. Everything seemed to be dressed in a shade of violet.
“My favorite color,” Elio said unapologetically. He studied Gabriel like he was trying to figure him out. Matteo moved to stand beside him, his hands clasped in front of him. “But we’re not here to talk about my interior design choices.”
“No, we’re not,” Ardan agreed, sending Gabriel a narrowed glance. He leaned back in his chair and crossed one knee over the other. “Gabe is here to explain the situation with Leo and advise you of a very dangerous enemy.”
“An enemy?” Elio glanced at Matteo and back to Gabriel. “Who?”
“Let me start with Leo’s death.” Gabriel took another swig of the overly sweet drink and placed it back on the table. He leaned forward on his elbows, keeping his gaze on Elio. “I freely admit that I planned and helped with the murder of your uncle.”
Matteo’s hand flinched, almost like he was going to reach for his gun, but Elio held up his hand to him. “Continue.”
“I thought he was a good man. I’m not sure whether you knew this or not, but your uncle was also gay.”
Elio nodded. “I was made aware of that, yes.”
“Well, he had a lover. A sweet man by the name of Kirby. At first, Leo was romantic, always swept Kirby off his feet, gave him whatever he wanted, but then his attitude changed. He started beating Kirby.”
Elio tensed in his chair.
“Some days I’d find Kirby on the ground, barely able to move, begging for help. Your uncle’s men would walk around him as though he didn’t exist. I helped how I could, but I realized that even I hadn’t done enough.” Anger made it hard to breathe, creating a lump in his throat. He had to remind himself that Leo was dead now. Gone. And Kirby was safe. “I understand that we’re criminals here, and violence comes with the territory, but not to lovers, not to family.”
Elio nodded, his mouth twitching like he was trying to hold back a grimace. “I agree. I always thought there was a reason I never liked my uncle.”
