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“Come on. You can’t send your men to the store for ice cream at two o’clock in the morning.”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want. I am the boss.”
“Zio.”
“Sofia,” he mimicked, his thumb hovering, ready to text. “Tell me.”
“Mint chocolate chip. If they can’t find it, then cookie dough.”
Nico typed out the instruction to the guards, then sat back with his beer. “There. All you had to do was ask.”
“I feel bad.” Sofia sat up a little more and wrapped her arms around her legs. “You’re already doing so much for me.”
“You are family. I would do anything for you. And I will find him, te lo prometto.”
“I know you will.” She bent her dark head and picked at the blanket covering her lower half. “I just wish I could remember his face.”
“Maybe it’s best that you don’t.”
“That’s what Ava and my therapist say.”
“Then you should listen to them. They sound like smart people.”
“I know. But I’m sorry. It would make it easier for you if I could remember his name or face.”
Nico swallowed more beer and shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about me. I like a challenge.”
Nico, I’m dying. Please, no more teasing.
He shoved those words aside, determined not to get dragged into memories of earlier tonight.
Sofia nudged his knee with her foot. “Thanks, Zio. You’re the best.”
“Six months ago, you told me I was embarrassing.”
“Because you didn’t know who Bad Bunny was! He literally performed at the Super Bowl.”
“I only like real football—not that American shit,” he said, feeling the need to defend himself.
“Well, I think you being the head of the Toronto mafia is very cool. Like, I’d probably be a complete mess if I didn’t know what this guy had coming to him when you found him.”
After another long pull of beer, Nico said, “He will suffer, bella. Sul mio onore.” On my honor—a vow every member of the ’Ndrangheta took very seriously.
“Good.” Sofia seemed to shake herself, like she was trying to stop whatever was going through her head. “Okay, I definitely do not want to talk about this anymore.”
Putting down the beer bottle, he reached for the television remote. “Would you like to watch something with me? Maybe it will make us tired enough to fall asleep.”
“What about Love Island?”
Nico wanted to refuse, but he couldn’t. Even if he hated the show, he would suffer through it if this was what Sofia wanted to watch. “Okay, but you might need to explain it to me.”
“It’s so good, Zio. You’re gonna love it.”
He sincerely doubted it, but he handed her the remote anyway.
CHAPTER 7
The charter plane waited on the runway and the boys walked toward it in a line, each carrying a bag or rolling a small suitcase. Bennett had done this a thousand times in his career, yet this afternoon felt different. There was a heaviness weighing down his stomach, a panic lurking just beneath the surface of his skin. And it wasn’t only about the psychopath on his team, a guy he saw nearly every day who was drugging unsuspecting women in clubs. That was part of it, of course, but now he’d added another thing to the anxiety cocktail in his gut.
