Page 95 of The Beast Who Begged Me

Nino. One of the best of the Clemenzas, and I hand-picked him to guard Sammy myself. So Nino’s death is on me, too.

Caligula sets down his phone beside King’s fucking business card and picks up the burner.

I make an irritated noise at the thought of the Morellis helping out—again—and Caligula looks at me.

“Will you be able to contain yourself while I make this call, or should I step into another room?”

“I’ll fucking behave myself,” I growl.

He puts out a hand and I put my ruined one into it. Then he calls Finch, putting the phone on speaker.

It’s answered on the third ring. “Cal? Are you at home?”

“Yes. Why?” Caligula’s fingers tighten around mine.

“There’s been a shooting near Kismet. I’m still in my office.” Finch sounds wound tight. “Luca came straight here and locked us down as soon as he heard. He’s barely let me out of his sight since.”

“The man who was shot worked for me,” Caligula says. “He was guarding two of my people. Sammy Maitland and Ricky Benedetti. And they took Sammy. I need to talk to Luca.”

“Jesus. Hold on.” There’s a rustle, a murmuring, and then Luca D’Amato’s voice comes through the speaker.

“Who took him?” D’Amato asks.

“Daniel King.”

There’s a pause. “I see,” comes an eventual, noncommittal response.

“One of my men has been killed in your territory, and someone under my protection was abducted. I’d like to appeal to the Commission for help. That’s what it’s for, isn’t it?”

Another long pause. It’s agony to keep my mouth shut, to let Caligula do what he needs to do. Even if what he’s doing is just waiting out the most powerful Boss in New York.

“Alright,” D’Amato says at last. “I’ll contact the others now and arrange a meeting. Keep this phone with you.”

“Thank you, Luca. I appreciate your friendship.”

And I’m awed once more by his capacity for swallowing down everything the world throws at him. The man on the other end of that phone is responsible for his Family’s downfall, and has done more for him this past month than Caligula can ever repay. But for Sammy’s sake, he’ll continue to bow and scrape. Be polite. Do whatever it takes to protect his people.

“Don’t thank me, Cal,” comes D’Amato’s reply. “Just remember not to start anything you can’t finish.” The call ends.

I stand up and start pacing again, because I can’t stand the thought of Sammy being in that asshole King’s hands. Of Sammy being afraid again. I think of him shivering like that weird art piece of his, and I just get angrier.

Sammy never trusted anyone, because why the hell should he after the things that happened to him? He took more than a year to stop flinching whenever I moved too fast. He’s just started to be happy, just found someone who…

I pause in my pacing and slap a hand on Benedetti’s shoulder. “I’ll get him back,” I tell him. “I swear it.”

“I’m coming too,” he says, swiveling around on his seat.

I shake my head. “These guys are serious. They’re not in the market for a new suit, unless it’s funeral wear.”

“Who the hell do you think I am?” he snaps. “My grandfather has dressed men of honor for my entire life. I know how these things work. I know who Daniel King is⁠—”

“How?” Caligula asks sharply. He’s been sitting at the table with his eyes closed, chin propped on his hands, which are gripped so tightly that they’re white at the knuckles.

“What do you mean, how? I don’t know him personally, but⁠—”

“No. What I mean is…” Caligula opens his eyes. “Is he one of your grandfather’s clients?”

“No. But, well…” He chews his lip for a second. “I mean, we hear things. You know? We’re trusted because we keep our mouths shut, but we do hear things when we’re working with clients.”