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“Bianchi,” I say in a low, threatening voice, holding the trembling woman. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
Piero hisses as he pushes past me into headquarters. “Not yet, but I will if I have to deal with this brat any longer.”
It’s the first I realize he’s without his entourage. “Where’s your posse?”
“Busy with clean up,” he says heatedly. He spies the bar and makes a beeline for it. “After tonight, I need a damn bottle of whiskey.”
The little brunette continues to cry against my chest. Sorry for her, I pat her back gently to calm her. “You told me you didn’t treat women like this, Piero.”
The mobster clenches his jaw, wagging a finger at me. “I make exceptions for trash like her.”
Fine, I’ll bite. “Want to explain what the fuck you’re going on about and how it helps to find my wife?”
Piero grimaces at the liquor selection before grabbing our best bottle of Four Roses small batch bourbon whiskey. He pops the cork top and takes a swig right from the bottle.
If a man of Piero’s pedigree is drinking bourbon straight from the bottle, then it’s safe to assume business went south.
He takes another swig before plopping down on one of the oversized couches. His head falls back and he looks up at the vaulted ceiling. “I told you Lorenzo’s last informant gave up a name, did I not?”
He waves his hand at the woman in my arms. “Well, this is she—Rowan Emerson. I thought I was looking for a fucking man. How manybellezzedo you know named Rowan?” He shakes his head before taking another long pull from the bottle.
Piero is out of sorts and won’t be of much help ‘till he gets his head straight. Gently, I escort the woman to the opposite sofa and set her down before sitting opposite her on the coffee table. She looks up, shivering as she stares ahead. I glance over my shoulder and find Piero glowering at her.
There’s some heavy shit going on between these two, and I’m not about to go sticking my feet in it. “Ignore him,” I advise.
“Hard to ignore when he grabbed me from my house in the middle of the night and refused to answer what he wanted with me.”
Piero yanks his collar to the side to reveal angry, red scratches. “You lost the right to ask anything of me after you dug your claws in my neck.”
“You abducted me, you portentous twit! Who wouldn’t defend themselves?!”
Ha! I like this chick.
“I wouldn’t have broken into your house if you had been at the damn banquet like the rest of your co-workers.”
“I was there, you asshat! I left early because of a headache.”
“Damn, she’s got you pegged,” Punk teases, his cocky smirk taking over his face.
Piero flicks him off. “Suck my dick, you hairless thug. This has nothing to do with you.”
“I’m not bald, motherfucker. It’s shaved. And if you’re here about Jo, then it is my fucking business. She’s family.”
“Enough,” I say in a calm voice. “Piero, I’m assuming shit went down at this banquet. I get being angry when a job goes south, but it’s not helping us get answers.”
The mafia Don snarls. “The whole Donavan & Walt accounting firm she works for is filled with corrupt assholes—she’s just the one I was targeting in the mass. My men went into the company’s annual banquet to retrieve her. Someone didn’t like us asking questions about their prized accountant. One thing led to another, and now I have a man fighting for his life in surgery. Forgive me if I’m bitter toward the dirty crook sitting at your side. I look at my men the way you do your crew, Atlas. Had she been present, I have no doubt all of this would have been avoided.”
A man down is never something to take lightly—I understand his pain. However, I still don’t see how Rowan is tied to my investigation into Esteban. “Fill me in, brother.”
Piero’s nostrils flare as he exhales, like he’s willing himself to calm. “You’re looking at Lorenzo’s dirty little accountant who controlled all his overseas transactions.”
“I already told you, I don’t have any clients by the name Lorenzo!”
Piero goes right on talking, ignoring her protests. “My hacker dug deep into this company. This one worked hand-in-hand with the devil, slipping money under the counter to spies in Argentina to track down Esteban. My prick of a cousin was trying to make a deal with the bastard to get you out of the picture and leave your wife free for the picking.”
Say what?!
Hold up. Hold the fuck up!
