Capello touched something he shouldn’t have. Even if it hadn’t been my woman, his crimes signed his death warrant. My only regret was not finding out Rae was the maid he attacked before I hunted him down to finish the job I started in the kitchen.
“There was an incident down at the port,” Alfonso murmured. “Your sources had information, Tony.”
“They did,” Grey Tony muttered. “Race cars were sighted taking out a shipment of Carlos’s goods.”
“Well, that doesn’t concern us.” My grandfather dismissed them. “We’ll be short on supply, but Carlos has never let us down before.”
And that right there was why my grandfather should retire. Carlos was taking advantage of his lack of ambition. There were better ways to bring illicit supplies into the city. The Zorzallos had figured that out, but so long as we supported Carlos and allowed him to have sole control of the market, we were at his mercy in terms of price.
That monopoly needed to end.
“It’s a bad business,” Tony insisted. “We can’t have our partners attacked on our turf.”
“Technically Angelo controls the Conley Port,” I drawled, unable to help myself.
The don scowled. “Angelo Zorzallo is an idiot.”
There was no love lost between the two dons of this city. Their feud went back decades. At least the other kingpin saw the benefit of working together, which was why we got along.
“Does anyone in our syndicate own a vintage, red racecar?” Alfonso piped up.
The curtains shivered.
My gaze snagged on the movement.There you are, beautiful.
Rae needed to hang on. If she reacted, if she thought she was in danger, she might reveal herself by accident.
“Don Grimaldi owns a vintage Jaguar,” I said sweetly. “And I believe you own more than one Ferrari from that era, signore.”
Alfonso paled. “It wasn’t me!”
“Dominico!” the don snapped. “What’s gotten into you?”
The curtains were still. She was safe—for now.
“Nothing, signore,” I said smoothly. “I’m just pointing out that in this city, there is no shortage of red, vintage sports cars.”
Benny harumphed. “He’s right. It could be anyone.”
“And there was no camera footage?” My grandfather shifted. There was no missing the way his shoulders shook during the effort to move his weight in the seat.
Tony shook his head. “None, signore.”
Just a little longer.
I fought not to stare at the window. Her feet weren’t visible underneath, which meant she was perching on the sill. Like a damn cat. I watched the men, but no one was directly facing the window. My gaze darted over their faces, waiting to make sure no one did a double take or stared at the thick, velvet drapes.
“Then we’ll leave that mess for Carlos to deal with. So long as he brings in another shipment, we’ll give him free reign to hunt the city,” my grandfather decreed. “What I want to focus on is finding Enzo. If my underboss is alive, he may need our help. Put every man on the hunt.”
My nails bit into my palm. How dare he. How fucking dare he! The men had actual work to do to keep this operation flowing. The East Coast was full of jackals and other vultures. A small slip would be seen as a sign for them to pounce. Putting the manpower into a useless manhunt would be astronomically stupid.
The don was putting everyone at risk.
I considered the weak, old man sitting on his throne behind his desk. He hadn’t had boots on the ground in more than four decades, not that he did much field work back then either. Senicide was an unforgiveable act. A murder of a family member without just cause was. But the older my grandfather grew, the more the question of just cause played through my mind.
Witnessing him drive us closer to the cliff of doom brought the crisis to a head. It would be on me to right the course. And if nature didn’t act for me, I would have to take matters into my own hands.
I hung my head.Heaven forgive me.
