Page 41 of The Mafia’s Fiancee

Chapter 15

Luke

Sean returned, gladto see me. The capo seemed hesitant to speak freely with Emma, but she crossed her arms and didn’t budge.

“She’s with me,” I told the older capo.

“I see that.” Still, he frowned and remained on guard. “I’ve brought enough men to secure the perimeter.”

“Why not have the whole force on hand?” I asked. “Marlo seems to do nothing but sleep, so what difference would it make who you had here?” It felt foreign to count on others—on teams of soldiers—to defend me. I was used to defending myself and it wasn’t easy to trust in these Rossini men. How could they be loyal to me? They didn’t know me.

“Because then anyone watching the property from afar would know something has changed,” Emma reasoned. “If there is an uptick in security, they’ll figure it is to protect something or someone else than Marlo.”

Sean raised his brows at her. It seemed he was pleasantly surprised by her logic and wouldn’t waste time dismissing her as an idiot. “Correct.”

I shrugged, counting on hiding out here. With the burner phone, I had access to check in on my mom. She seemed happy to hear that I was “staying” with Emma. I didn’t want to tell her about everything that was happening. The less she had to worry about, the better. In this case only, ignorance was bliss, for her.

The first few days that we stayed here, Emma and I tried to sort out a cleaner place to sleep. Jimmy’s room was fine. He must have maintained his own quarters for a long time. With Marlo’s demise and decline, it seemed that the house staff was let go of. No maids, butlers, or staff members were here. I had no familiarity with such a household staff, but I had worked at the Tropican for a long time. I was aware of how many individuals it took to make a place like that hospitable, and with a mansion as large as this, the neglect and wear and tear compounded so much faster.

Emma didn’t blink at getting her hands dirty. We cleaned everything in the wing we’d claimed. And then we moved outward. For the simple sake of having a decent kitchen to make coffee and sit at a dining room to eat, we had to dig in and clean thoroughly.

Jimmy, as he recovered, came out to see the progress of what we were doing. “I’m a simple man. I stay in my room or in the study.” He shrugged, almost amused that we were putting so much effort into cleaning up. Even if we didn’t plan to stay, it helped pass the time.

I was tiring of this waiting game, but now that I was seeing more of the Rossini men coming in to check in and report to Jimmy, I realized it wasn’t a simple thing of calling up the enemy and hearing what they were planning to do. I wouldn’t take the threat against my life lightly. They didn’t want to kill Emma. Antonio had instructed those men at the safehouse to kill me and capture her. I wouldn’t stand for either of those things to happen. Through the work and presence of spies and soldiers out there in the city, we would get information as soon as we could.

This wasn’t my style. If I had an enemy—and I didn’t before I met Emma—I would approach them head-on and deal with them. Hiding and letting an army took some getting used to, and these men didn’t realize I was the heir, next in line to take over.

If I want to.

I had yet to decide that far out. The only long-term plan I could commit to was marry Emma.

She worked alongside me, cleaning and organizing and dusting. The neglect of this enormous house was evident in every corner of every room, and it helped to preoccupy us.

Later one evening, though, we took a break. Jimmy strolled up to us in the massive kitchen.

“Want some?” Emma pointed at the simple chicken and pasta we’d made.

“No. Just here to talk.”

I watched him sit and couldn’t help but be apprehensive. “Did you get news?” I wanted to know how to make a move, how to get past this threat. When I said the simplest solution was to kill Antonio and Vincent Marchese, then Damon Giordino, Jimmy rolled his eyes. Even Emma was practical. “You’ll never get close enough to my father. Not like that.”

“Nothing we don’t know already. Like you, the Giordinos and Marcheses are hiding.” He sighed as he rested his forearms on the table. “We need to discuss this fight with Ferris.”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. Now I regretted ever talking with Ben and then hinting that I’d be up for a fight against one of the most notorious fighters out there. At that time, I had my eye on the paycheck and that was it. Had I known about all this hidden danger, I wouldn’t have said anything.

“I’m not doing it.”

Jimmy smirked. “Do you think he could beat you?”

I shook my head. “No. But I don’t need to invite any more opportunities to have a hit carried out on me.”

“Who is he, exactly?” Emma asked.

“He used to be an assassin. Worked in the black market. Antonio found him and helped him out of a legal issue. Something like that.” Jimmy shrugged. “He took him on and Ferris proved to be undefeatable. He was so good at fighting that he retired. It takes an extreme case for him to want to be matched in anything, but every year, at the end of the summer, he makes a big show about taking on only the ‘worthy.’”

“And I told one of the ring workers that I’d step up for that challenge,” I told her.

“But now, with you in line to take Marlo’s place, as his rightful son and heir...” Jimmy exhaled a tired breath. “You’re the next leader of the family.” He bored me with a serious stare. “If you were to take on this fight, you have to be confident you could win.”