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30
Damian followedNico down a long tiled hall open on one side to the courtyard where they’d arrived. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with having Aria out of his sight, but Angel Vitale seemed harmless enough, and Damian doubted Nico was going to make a hit on him in front of his own wife and child.
They’d passed several sets of glass doors before Nico turned into a room lined with bookshelves, several rugs covering the floor. An impressive desk dominated one side of the room next to several computer monitors and flat-screen TVs.
“Drink?” Nico asked, closing the doors and crossing the room to a bar.
“Whiskey,” Damian said, taking in the fine art on the wall mixed with crayon drawings he could only assume had been done by the little girl named Stella.
Nico handed him a glass and indicated the Chesterfield sofa at the center of the room. Damian sat and waited for Nico to do the same, his ankle crossed over one knee in a gesture of total relaxation Damian couldn’t mimic.
“I need some of your men,” Damian said.
“You have some of my men,” Nico said, taking a drink from his glass.
“I need some of your men here in Italy. Capri, to be exact.”
“I take it this has something to do with Aria Fiore.” There was no question in the statement.
“She’s not safe in New York, and I have to go back now that things are cooling off,” Damian said.
Nico tapped his finger against his glass. “Some would say trying to protect your enemy’s sister is the mark of a foolish man.”
“Some would way falling in love with your enemy’s daughter is just as foolish.”
Nico’s eyes hardened. “Careful, Damian.”
Damian held his gaze, let the silence stretch between them. He had the sense that Nico was taking his measure. Had the sense Nico would favor boldness over ass-kissing.
Nico leaned forward, set his glass on the coffee table. “Does Fiore know you have his sister?”
“It’s possible,” Damian said. “Although I assume if he does he knows she’s with me voluntarily.”
“Can he track you?”
Damian shook his head. “But I don’t want to take any chances. Fiore is a loose cannon — and Malcolm Gatti is even more dangerous. My men are tied up in New York. Yours are headquartered here. I figured you might be able to spare a few.”
“And does Aria know she’ll be waiting here while you tend to business in New York?” Nico asked.
“Not yet,” Damian said.
Nico chuckled, shook his head.
“I must be missing the joke,” Damian said.
“You won’t be missing it for long.” Nico ran a hand over his face. “You think she’ll stay quietly while you deal with her brother?”
Damian was under no delusion that Aria wouldn’t kick up a fight, but taking her back to New York wasn’t an option. “That’s my problem.”
Nico nodded. “My men say your strategy was well executed. Minimal fallout with law enforcement, no loss of life, territory slowly coming under control.”
“That meshes with the reports I’m getting.”
“And have you come to a decision about our offer?” Nico asked.
“Not officially,” Damian said. “But let’s just say I’m beginning to see the merit in having additional resources.”
Nico stared at him for a long moment, then stood, walked over to his desk where he tapped on one of the computers.
“I can give you four men tomorrow morning,” Nico said. “You can have them for a week. After that, Aria Fiore is your problem, and I’ll make no more allowances for you — or for her.”
Damian stood. “I understand.”
Nico came around the desk, shook Damian’s hand, held his gaze. “Be careful, Cavallo. I have a feeling your life has already changed in ways you don’t understand.”
There was something knowing in the other man’s eyes, and Damian thought about Aria. About the surprising ways she’d moved him during their time on Capri, her voice in the bedroom when they lay in bed at night talking, the way his body flipped on like a switch when he saw her, smelled her, so much as thought about her.
“I have a feeling you’re right.”
