Matilde’s alone with my children. Pulling out my phone, I check the cameras again. The twins are still asleep in their cribs, butshe’sin my bedroom. “Why is she raiding my underwear drawer?”
I show Dante the screen, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “A nosy teenager.”
“Or a spy,” I counter.
“But Silvio’s dead. Good riddance.”
Good riddance, indeed. I want to believe Caterina will be safe in Vegas now, but I’d still prefer to have my sister married to a man who answers to me instead of that crazy De Luca fucker.
A pitiful-looking street prostitute pecks on the window of my Mercedes, drawing my attention away from the girl on screen. Killing the engine, I meet her gaze. She stares at my scar for five full seconds before quickly tottering away. She’s seen plenty of scars, I’m sure.
On the corner, there’s a black van idling that I don’t like the look of. “You noted them?" I ask the solider guarding the entrance of The Gentleman's Post as we head up the stone steps.
"Yeah. We've noticed them a few times over the summer."
"Get their plate number,” I tell him.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” Cheryl, the madam purrs when Dante and I enter for our meeting with the Barzetti men. “Will you take some refreshment?”
I give her a quick nod, wishing I hadn’t agreed to this location.
When Cheryl leaves to fetch our drinks, I notice a young girl dusting the chandelier above the foyer. I’ve rarely spared her a second glance, but something about her dark hair, slightly pointed chin and brown eyes reminds me of the nanny. “Maddalena, why are you here?” I ask the girl.
She drops her duster. “The regular cleaning girl has been sick.” I scowl, noting the state of her clothes. She’s been cleaning all day when she should be in school.
Cheryl beckons us into the sitting room with our drinks, and Maddalena takes the opportunity to flee. “She’s not to work here,” I warn the madam. “Not even to dust and vacuum. Understood?”
“I understand. I’m sorry, Nico.”
“Have any of my men bothered her?”
She shakes her head before asking if we’d like some company this afternoon. “We have a fresh new girl from-”
“No.”
Cheryl nods before making herself scarce. It’s her job to greet the customers, handle the house upkeep and arrange the whores’ schedules, but it’s Antonio Barzetti and his son, Giacomo who handle the business end of our sex establishments in Chicago. They manage them efficiently, the money flows in, and they never fail to give their Capo his lion’s share. I’ve never liked them, nor Antonio’s older brother, Ritchie, my father’s Consigliere, but friendship is not a requirement for doing business.
“Do you still suspect them?” Dante drawls, sipping his drink.
“Of something, sure. I just don’t know what exactly yet.”
“So why do we have to meet with them?”
“I’m making some new rules. Why? Are you bored? Making more travel plans?”
The corner of his mouth lifts, and that maniacal glee in his dark eyes sets my teeth on edge. Dante has been up to something ever since our trip to New York for a wedding that didn’t happen, and I suspect it has everything to do with the missing bride, Sofia De Luca.
Pulling my phone out again, I find Matilde in the nursery with the children. Satisfied, I tuck it away as Antonio slithers in.Snakes in the garden.
Giacomo follows his father, still zipping up his pants. He takes full advantage of his position at the brothel, but all the women who work for us do so freely, understanding what they’ll be doing in exchange for the money they earn.
“No female entertainment for you today?” Giacomo asks.
“We’re here to talk business. Where’s your brother?” I ask Antonio of Ritchie.
“Upstairs. His pretty young wife is gone again, so he’s busy with-”
“When I call for a meeting, it’s not an excuse for anything else!”I roar, fed up with this bullshit. Antonio wisely closes his mouth. “I’m making changes regarding our sex work operations…”
