"I'm pretty sure I'm having a normal reaction," Olivia says, her eyes still wide.
"Then why aren't you saying anything?"
"Because despite all that, I still think the smart thing to do right now is listen to them. Since, you know, they're the ones with the guns and the plan."
"Fine," I say, turning back to Adrian. "What is your plan?"
"My plan, actually," Roberto says. "Giovanni and Nico are coming to take care of the... men in the stairwell. Antonio and I will take care of the cops. Everyone else is gathering at your father's place, and you and Adrian are heading there as well with Olivia."
Knowing I've been outgunned, literally, I snap, "Fine. But in the meantime, we are taking care of that bleeding, and I dare anyone to argue."
Chapter Thirteen
Adrian
This is not exactly the way I wanted to meet Luca Conti for the first time.
Not that there was ever going to be a good version of it. Men like Luca Conti are not the sort you casually shake hands with over coffee and a tray of pastries.
But if I’d had a choice, I would have preferred something that didn’t involve blood soaking through my shirt, and his youngest daughter alternating between white-faced with fear and white-faced with fury.
The SUV rolls through the gates of Luca’s house just after midnight.
Caterina is in the backseat with Olivia, furious that I made her sit back there while I drove with a gunshot wound.
Olivia is next to her, wisely silent. She does, however, have her phone in her hand, and I assume, is still working because, apparently, almost getting killed and then riding away from a casino shooting does not earn a night off.
Or maybe that’s just how they survive. Keep moving. Keep sorting the next thing. Don’t think too long about the stairwell and the bodies cooling in it.
The pressure dressing Caterina improvised in the conference room is doing its job well enough to keep me from painting the inside of the SUV red, but every bump in the drive sends a deep, hot throb through my side. Through and through is better than lodged. Better than organ damage. Better than a dozen other outcomes I’ve seen up close.
Still hurts like hell.
I keep my hand braced over the bandage anyway and look out the windshield as the house comes into view.
I’ve seen it before from my own research from last year, but seeing it like this is different. The place is lit up at the front, all stone and glass and expensive, but there is nothing calm about it tonight. Cars already line the circular drive.
And I know my own people are the ones standing guard here tonight.
Not family men.
Mine.
That matters to me.
The silhouettes at the perimeter shift just enough when they recognize the SUV, hands near weapons, eyes scanning the drive, the tree line, the approach. Good posture. Good spacing.
Just as I expect from them.
But I know that what's comforting to me must feel strange for them because the men who would usually close ranks around this house tonight are elsewhere.
Either taking care of the problem at the casino or not trusted enough to be here.
I bring the SUV to a stop at the base of the steps, and before the engine is even fully dead, two of my best appear before it, and I know two more flank it.
I kill the engine and take one quick look in the mirror.
Caterina is already unbuckling herself before I can say a word. Olivia has one hand braced against the seat, the other still holding her phone, her face pale but composed.
