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The hotel? What the hell was Tristan’s ass doing at a luxury hotel in the city?
“Be there in 20.”
Dante cut the call and headed to his black Range Rover that he’d bought the year he got his Outfit tattoo on his bicep. Hopping in, he drove out onto the long, winding driveway, down the hill, coming to the compound gates manned by four guards. Nodding to each one of them, he shot out of the property at a speed he shouldn’t have and headed to the city where the hotel was.
The view never stopped to amaze him – rolling green hills, endless skies, a winding river, and the huge city in the distance. Fuck, he loved this place.
Pulling into the hotel parking in record time, Dante stepped out and took the spacious elevator straight to the second floor. The hotel, plush and catering to luxurious tastes, was an odd location for his little buddy to be in. Going down the corridor to the room, Dante saw a woman give him an appreciative look, an invitation evident in her eyes, and he simply smiled at her, continuing on his way.
Tristan opened the door before he could knock, walking into a single bedroom, a laptop open on the bed.
“Hello to you too, buddy,” Dante closed the door behind him, his eyes on the laptop. There was a black and white feed on the screen of a restaurant.
“Is that the hotel restaurant?” he asked, taking a seat on the chair as Tristan sat on the bed. The younger boy hesitated for a second before nodding once.
Interesting.
Dante focused on the screen, seeing the camera recording a particular table where three men and a young girl sat.
Gabriel Vitalio was in the city.
Dante watched as the girl, wearing glasses, looked out the window. Morana Vitalio. Fuck.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” his eyes flew to Tristan, surprise filling his system as he saw the evidence of Tristan’s past thrown in his face. He knew the bloody history he had with the Vitalios but he had never, not once, thought that Tristan would be watching the girl. Given his intense personality, he probably should have.
Tristan didn’t say a word, just continued to stare as the girl, not older than thirteen or fourteen, pushed her glasses up her nose and stole a glance at her father, before looking out the window again, bored out of her mind. One of the men stole a glance at her and Dante’s skin crawled. Tristan’s hand fisted.
“Don’t let me kill him,” Tristan muttered and suddenly, Dante knew why he was there. He was there to contain him. Watching the creep, Dante didn’t mind that one fucking bit.
An hour later, the lunch wrapped up, and Vitalio party got up to leave. Tristan shut the laptop, threw it in his bag, his body vibrating with tension.
“Let’s go,” Dante said, leading the way out of the hotel room, down the corridor, down the elevator, and out to the side where the restaurant opened into the alley. Clocking the man who had stared a little too long at young Morana Vitalio, both he and Tristan followed him as he took out a cigarette to smoke.
Dante hung back, letting Tristan take the lead and take whatever frustration he had out on him. The younger boy went behind the man and put him in a headlock.
Dante watched them tussle, itching to take
a smoke himself, when he felt eyes watching him. Turning to the side, he saw a man limping at the mouth of the alley, watching the entire scene.
Dante waited for a second, thinking he would pass, but he didn’t. He stayed, and he stared.
The limping dude was weird.
Dante let Tristan handle the creep, his own eyes on the bearded man at the other end of the alley, watching him watch them. Was he one of Gabriel’s guys?
Dante headed to him, and he started to limp away, relying heavily on his cane.
“Wait,” Dante called out, on the main street now, though it was mostly deserted at this time of the night. “Who are you? Why were you watching us?”
The man stopped, turning to look at him from behind his glasses. He put a hand inside his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper.
“I’m not a threat to you, Mr. Maroni. But one day, you’ll have questions,” the man told him quietly. “Call me then.”
Dante took the paper, suspicious.
“And take care of him. He’s important.”
With that, the man limped away, and Dante watched, weirded the fuck out.
