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She manages a cold laugh. “You are a real piece of work, you know that?”
“I offered to help you forget for a while. Did you forget your troubles or not?”
“You’re making me feel like shit right now, I know that much.”
“I am not in charge of how you feel. You are.”
“Thanks for the psych lesson I neither asked for nor wanted.”
“I warned you. I do not do emotions. I am not good relationship material. I am good at helping women forget. That’s all.”
“I tell you something, Don Bianchi. I won’t forget this in a hurry.” She checks her dress is right. “You going to unlock the door for me?”
“You’re leaving?”
“Don’t sound so shocked. You clearly don’t want me to stay any more than I want to hang around with you.”
“Be sure to tell me if you are pregnant.”
“You’ll be the first to know.” She crosses to the door. “That didn’t happen,” she adds, disappearing through it without another word.
I sink into my chair, thinking hard. She might think she can erase that from her mind and maybe she can but I never will. The best sex I ever had and with a woman I didn’t know existed before today.
I make a call to Albert. He’ll get her bank details quick enough and then I’ll transfer the money. I can pay her parents’ medical bills and I can call in a favor when I need it.
It’s probably best I don’t. I should let her go, realistically. The only reason I like her is because of her purity. That won’t last if she hangs around with me.
My obsessive nature would destroy her. I wouldn’t be able to give her the freedom I can tell she craves. She’s a feisty one and I would stomp on that soon enough. That’s the nature of me. Of my world. All good things get destroyed sooner or later. I doubt she’s pregnant but I say that to all my encounters. I honor my commitments.
I will do something for her though even if I never hear from her again. Call it a farewell gift.
I’m going to kill Alessandro Colombo.
FIVE
RICARDO
* * *
Six weeks since we fucked and I swear I can still taste her. I shouldn’t be thinking about her. I should be thinking about the big fucking problem that’s right in front of me.
Albert’s been out for an hour, trying to find out what happened. It’s the third game this week that’s been done over. Things are starting to escalate.
I’m sitting at my desk, my diary open in front of me. On Friday night, the cops raided the game above Antonio’s restaurant. Nothing much lost but tells me that they felt safe to come into one of my establishments without a warning.
I turn a page, tapping the entry there. Sunday night. I’m down five grand because the game at Bobby’s house was done over by three armed men in masks.
This morning’s been the worst yet. Since Sunday, I told all players to check in once an hour during the game, let us know all is well. I’ve heard nothing for the last two hours. That’s why Albert’s gone to check. He’s taken Diego with him. A show of force. My consigliere and my enforcer both out there in public.
Whoever is causing these problems is going to face my full wrath sooner or later.
I flick back through the diary. Every business has its ups and downs but the last six weeks have been a lot more downs than up. I just need to work out the pattern.
The only thing I can be sure of is that the raids and the hold ups only started after Jody Fletcher’s funeral.
I feel like slapping myself in the face. How could I not see it before? This has got Colombo fingerprints all over it. No doubt Don Colombo found out about my presence at the funeral. He’s not a fool, despite having one for a son. He’ll have guessed I was there to offer my services to the Fletcher family.
This is him kicking back, trying to warn me off before I whack his son. I get the feeling that whatever Albert and Diego find at the card game, it’s not going to be good.
