Page 130 of Deathless & Divided

“All right. Love you,” Damian said.

“Love you,” Lily whispered.

Damian ended the call and dropped his phone on the couch cushion. For another twenty minutes, he stared at the screen of his laptop again, letting the opened window for the conference call option taunt him further.

He didn’t need to ask for permission to do the final job Dino asked for. Well, the job wasn’t only for Dino. Killing Terrance Trentini would work to Damian’s favor in a lot of ways. It would take him out of the spotlight as the potential for a future boss and nobody would ever believe that Damian could kill Terrance. Not being as close as they seemed to be.

They weren’t really close at all.

Nonetheless, killing a boss could come with consequences. Not just from inside the Outfit, but from families in other states aligned with them. Syndicates had protocols and rules for that sort of thing. They expected some kind of say at the end of it all.

Before he could overthink it further, Damian reached forward and hit the call button on a contact he’d purposely changed the name of in case anyone ever got a look at his list. The trip he’d taken to New York for the Commission and meeting of the bosses had been beneficial in more ways than one.

Just because Terrance didn’t like certain families didn’t mean Damian couldn’t have connections with them. Keeping friends close but enemies closer had a whole different meaning in the mafia.

Damian checked the clock on the bottom, right-hand corner of the screen and noted the late time. He probably shouldn’t be calling a New York Don without first going through some form of connections between other men in the family, but Damian didn’t have that option at his disposal. Not considering everything.

Just when Damian was about to hang up the call, Dante Marcello picked up on his end. Dante ruled over the dominating family in New York as their leader. Being the Marcello Don also meant Dante had a great deal of control and influence with the other major families of the Commission. He was also what many men considered to be the Boss of bosses. Damian didn’t want problems from other families arising because of Terrance’s death. Having Dante on his side, one of the most ruthless crime bosses in North America, would certainly help Damian’s cause.

“Ciao,” Dante greeted as the screen flickered with the Marcello Don’s picture. “Marcello speaking. If you talk any louder than a mouse, the next time I see you will not end pleasantly.”

Damian laughed under his breath. “Oh?”

The live shot of an office Damian didn’t recognize filled the background as Dante sat down in a large, leather chair. Even more surprising was the toddler boy Dante held, snuggled into his chest. The young boy’s face was hidden into Dante’s neck. In footie pajamas and with just a peek of a thumb sticking out, Damian guessed the boy was sucking on the digit.

Damian grinned at the sight of Dante holding the child like the two were in the midst of snuggling. It was such a contradictory sight compared to the man Damian knew Dante to be. While Damian had been aware Dante had a young, adopted son, he didn’t realize the man was such a hands-on Dad.

Apparently even cold men could be daddies.

“Damian Rossi,” Dante said, grinning. “This is a surprise.”

“Sorry for the late call,” Damian said, keeping his voice down for the child’s sake.

Dante shrugged. “If it were any other night, you wouldn’t have caught me. Michel is having problems with his molars coming in. He keeps us up a great deal of the time. What can I do for you?”

Damian had struck an unlikely friendship with Dante during that meeting of the bosses. Dante was sharp, quick, and brutal when he wanted something. Damian appreciated that. They’d exchanged contact numbers just in case something came up in the future. Damian supposed something had, now.

“It’s an interesting situation,” Damian said vaguely.

Dante chuckled. “They always are. No beating around the bush, what do you want?”

“Hits on high members should always go through the Commission, shouldn’t they?”

“They should,” Dante said slowly, raising a brow high. “Usually it’s passed through the grapevine and not a direct call with an actual face behind the hit, Damian.”

“I’m not the usual, I guess.”

“I guess not.” Dante sighed, patting the bottom of his son as he asked, “Who’s it for?”

“Terrance.”

Dante’s expression didn’t change on the screen at all. “Why?”

Damian shrugged. “Nothing is ever simple and getting into it all would be pointless on your end.”

“It would,” Dante agreed. “I’m curious though, so indulge me.”

“I don’t want to be you,” Damian said.