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“She’s always going through something,” I say bitterly.
“She’s still young. Sometimes emotions get the better of all of us,” he says with a knowing look.
“It’s lucky you’re my consiglieri, Franco, because if it were anyone else saying that to me, they would be taking a long walk off that clifftop over there.”
“I’ll straighten Lucia out.”
“Good luck with that one.”
I leave Franco to console Lucia and make my way to the office. Tysen has given me some of his men for the move, just in case there are any more leaks or security threats. Damon and a slightly ashen-faced Dominic pour over security cameras, ensuring all angles are covered.
“There’s news from the city,” Damon says waiting for me to sit down.
“What?”
“Don Antonio Fazio of Florida is dead, had his throat slit in the night.”
“And?”
“Earlier in the week, he refused to go into money laundering with the Russians. Later that day, Irish gunmen shot him down.”
“How do you know they were Irish?”
“They had the O’Shea sigil tattooed on their arms.”
“Hardly subtle,” I say rolling my eyes.
“I don’t think it was meant to be subtle; it was meant as a warning. The Russians and the Irish are collaborating and by the looks of it, they’re getting closer to New York.”
“Add the Chinese to their list of allies. From what Tysen tells me, they seem to have also brought off the Triad.”
“You think it was one of their guns that were here last night?”
“I don’t know,” I say, pushing my temple. “It doesn’t seem to make any sense. Why now?” “Pushing my wife down the stairs hardly sends a message when we don’t know who the messenger is.”
“I think you and Sophia should get a jet home after the wedding, maybe being out here in the open isn’t such a good idea.”
“I think you might be right. Plus, I can’t relax here, not knowing what is happening. Did you find out about my other inquiry?”
“Yeah, we’ve dropped a few breadcrumbs but no bite as of yet.”
“I guess we’ll soon find out if we have any traitors in our midst.”
“About yesterday,” Dominic says clearing his throat.
“You’re not going to tell me you’re a traitor now?” I say, raising my eyebrow.
“What? No! I fucked up, Don. I’m sorry. I thought the house had been cleared, and I should have checked before leaving her alone,” he finishes meekly.
“It’s done, but don’t make that mistake again.”
“Aren’t you going to get ready for thewedding?”
“Yeah, I want all the men ready and armed half an hour before I leave. Understood?”
“Yes, Don.”
“She was a dangerous, dangerous girl. A plague. A Mountain of Adamant who tore the iron from ships, sinking them to their watery graves without a second thought. With a mere smile and a wrinkle of her nose.”
