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He backs up ever so slightly. “Yes, but...”
“Are you questioning my decision?”
His face goes ghostly pale. “No, Boss. Of course not.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” He takes another step back. “I’m sorry, Boss.”
“Good.” I get inside my car and peel out of the lot with the accompaniment of screeching tires and the scent of burning rubber, heading out to the highway leading back to the city.
During the drive, I give Ada a quick call to ask what Milene’s doing, and she confirms my wife is in the penthouse chasing the cat. The anxiety in the pit of my stomach lessens, slightly. Still, I press harder on the gas.
Rocco’s words cross my mind as I’m waiting for the streetlight to change. He’s always been very homophobic and considers any man who doesn't indulge in every willing pussy to be gay. I wonder if he’s right about Alessandro. I can’t remember ever seeing him with a woman, or even talking about one. In fact, for the five years he’s been working for me, I don’tthink I’ve heard Alessandro Zanetti talk more than a handful of times.
When he first became part of the Family, I was suspicious. He’d obviously received military training, and I even considered the possibility that he might be an undercover cop, so Nino did a thorough check of his background. It seemed solid. A couple of years of military service, then an honorary discharge due to injury. I don’t remember the nature of the injury which Nino mentioned, but it certainly hasn’t impacted Alessandro’s abilities. From what I’ve seen, the man is in perfect physical condition. Over the years, I’ve tested him several times by assigning him to carry out terminations, just to gauge his reaction in case he was, in fact, a plant. The way he disposed of his targets using surgical precision and not a second’s hesitation, confirmed what I already suspected. Before he joined Cosa Nostra, Alessandro was a professional hitman. So, I made sure his skills wouldn’t go to waste.
* * *
When Milene walks through the double doors and enters the living room, I let my eyes wander over her white stiletto heels and the white dress that hugs her curves and emphasizes her figure. Her hair is loose, the soft curls falling to the middle of her back. She’s put on makeup and looks devastatingly beautiful.
“Will this event go on all night? If that’s the case, I’ll need to swap these shoes for another pair with smaller heels,” she states as she approaches, fumbling through her purse. “I’ve gotten too used to wearing sneakers.”
“No.”
“Thank God.” She stops in front of me, lifting her eyes to mine. “Are you all right?”
“Why?”
“You have a slightly bewildered look on your face. It doesn’t quite work with your controlling personality, Tore, sunshine.” She smirks.
“Tore?”
“Your name’s too long. It takes an age to pronounce, and by the time it’s out, I’ve often forgotten what I wanted to say. Or do you prefer I keep on calling you Kurt? It may confuse the cat, though.”
Very funny. “Tore will do,” I say. “Give me your hand.”
“You’ve already taken my life. I’m not giving you anything else.”
“The hand, Milene. Left one.”
She lifts her hand. I take two thick gold bands from my pocket and slide the smaller one down onto her ring finger.
Milene raises her eyebrows. “I thought we were skipping the ring part.”
“We’re not skipping anything, cara. The rings were late.”
And I made sure the jeweler knew how I felt about that. Nino said the man will be staying in hospital for at least two weeks.
Still holding Milene’s hand, I revel in the sight of the ring that marks her as mine on her delicate finger. I lift the second band so it’s in front of her face.
Milene cocks her head. “You didn’t strike me as the jewelry type.”
I’m not. I never planned on getting married, and the idea of wearing a wedding band had never crossed my mind. Until now.
She takes the ring. “Left hand or right?”
“Right.” I want it visible at all times, not hidden under the glove. It wouldn’t fit over my deformed knuckle anyway.
