I know what he's saying.
He hangs up just as my phone buzzes again.
Enzo.
Of course.
"I heard about Tessaro." Gravel and old grudges. Enzo Moretti. Seventy-eight years old. My father's brother. Old-world mafia down to his marrow. Built the family's power on blood and paranoia and has never once let go of either. The man would start a war with a parking meter if it looked at him the wrong way. He's been running operations since before I was born, and he treats loyalty like a leash. "The girl has the drive."
"She does."
"Then you know what needs to happen."
I get into the back seat. My driver pulls out without being told. Outside, the city moves past the windows — bright and indifferent, full of people who have no idea what runs underneath it.
"She needs to be contained," Enzo says. "Before Giovanni gets to her first. She's a Virelli. We don't know what she does with that drive."
"I'll handle it."
"Luca." His voice drops. The tone he uses when he wants to remind me who built this empire. "I need her contained. Not charmed. Not negotiated with.Contained.Do you understand me?"
I understand him perfectly.
I'm just not planning to listen.
"It'll be done," I say, and hang up.
I lean backagainst the seat.
That lifted chin. That steady mouth. The way she stood over a dead man without flinching. I think about the drive and what Tessaro died to deliver and the fact that Giovanni Virelli is going to move fast the second he finds out his daughter is holding it.
She's a problem. No question.
But she'smyproblem now.
I don't share. I don't hand off. And I don't let Enzo or Giovanni or anyone else decide what gets done with what belongs to me.
Serafina Virelli walked into the middle of something that's going to get her killed. She doesn't know it yet.
I'm going to make sure she lives long enough to find out.
What I do with her after that? Can't think about it. Can't afford to. Because if I start, I'll think about those hands again. That jaw. The way she looked at me like she was already deciding how to take me apart.
Christ.
I want to let her.
Not thinking about it.
My phone buzzes. Unknown number. Burner.
I open the message.
Virelli men are en route to Bellevue. Ten minutes.
I'm already moving.
3
