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It’s been calm with no other attempted murders, but if Vincent is a threat to Benny and our families, he needs to go.
Benny drapes his arm over my shoulders, pulls me to his side, and snuggles me into him as we walk. “We’re trying to figure out the Lombardi situation. Vincent suffered a stroke while you were in the hospital. He’s dying.” His jaw tenses. “He’s in a facility, and I can’t get my hands on him yet.”
“Poison isn’t an option?” I hate myself for suggesting a possible solution for murder.
“He’s on a ventilator and not eating, and someone stays with him all night. They know what we’d do. I’m careful with every move I make.” He scrubs a hand over his forehead. “They want him to die peacefully and are doing everything in their power to make sure that happens.”
“What will happen when he goes? Will Antonio become boss?”
“Antonio said his uncle is disputing his legitimacy to do so.”
“Why doesn’t Vincent verbally tell them or write something down?”
He lowers his tone. “Vincent is incapacitated.”
I stall our walking when we reach a wooden bench, and we sit. “When did you speak with Antonio?”
“When I visited his father’s hospital room.”
Sighing, I cross my legs. “Of course, you went to the dying man’s hospital room.” I’d be more surprised if he didn’t.
Benny scrubs his hands together. “Antonio seems willing to forget about the Vinny situation and let bygones be bygones if he becomes boss. But his uncle wants us dead.”
“It sounds like the Lombardi family is going to have a civil war.” I shudder. That makes my heart hurt.
There will be bloodshed among brothers, cousins, friends.
For what?So one particular person can hold all the power.
Benny drops his arm along the back of the bench and kicks out his legs. “It appears so.”
“If Vincent is about to die, let him die peacefully.”
He flinches. “Heshotyou.”
“But if the man is already knocking on heaven’s door—”
“Hell’s door,” he corrects before I continue.
“If Vincent can’t speak, he can’t cause trouble. When he dies, more trouble will come. As much as I hate to say it, right now, we need Vincent alive.”
* * *
“All right,”I say, dragging out the last word as I snatch my phone from the nightstand and collapse onto the bed. “Your dinner options are Chinese, pizza, or Italian.” I frown while unlocking my phone. “Man, I wish L’ultima Cena was on DoorDash.”
I declared we were having adinner in bedevening since Benny has the night off from the club. He adjusted his schedule to work every other day. That doesn’t mean other Marchetti family jobs don’t arise, but he always updates me on his whereabouts.
Benny drops his phone onto the dresser and empties his jeans pockets. It wasn’t until recently that I realized my husband owns more than just expensive suits. It doesn’t happen frequently, but sometimes, he dresses casually. Like now, he’s wearing black jeans that fit him as well as his suits and a black sweater with three buttons at the neck.
He opens his nightstand drawer and drops his gun inside. “Baby, if you want L’ultima Cena delivered, I’ll get you L’ultima Cena delivered.”
“You always let me get my way, don’t you?” I scoop up Bruiser from the floor and hold him in the air. “That’s why we love Daddy, isn’t it?”
I freeze as soon as the words leave my mouth.
Benny stops dead in his tracks, and his head turns so quickly that I’m shocked he doesn’t catch whiplash.
Bruiser wiggles out of my arms and runs across the bed.
