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“Then after that, I don’t know what the fuck to do,” he admitted.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said. We always did.
“How’s the new house manager?” he asked.
I’d actually been expecting a little push-back from Lorenzo when I’d told him I’d offered the woman a live-in position. Outsiders in our business kind of shit. But he’d actually been encouraging about it.
And, I guess, we didn’t actually do any business at my place typically, so it wasn’t like there was some security issue.
“I fucking forgot that she doesn’t have a bed,” I admitted, shaking my head at my oversight.
To that, Lorenzo let out a chuckle. “Further proving the need of a house manager,” he said.
“Yeah, I guess. She’s shopping for that shit today.”
“Gotta be weird,” he said.
“What?”
“Having a woman in your house in more than a one-night capacity.”
It should have been weird.
Oddly enough, though, I found I was more comforted by it than anything. Not having to worry about cleaning or decorating, maybe having a nice, hot meal to come home to on occasion.
That shit sounded nice.
I knew Lorenzo had that with his woman. So did Brio, Salvatore, Santi, and Cesare. I used to think it was weird as fuck how they never wanted to go out anymore. But when you had your woman at the house, making a home, maybe some kids to bring some laughs, yeah, I guess I could get it.
Fuck.
My mom would be over the moon to know I’d even thought something like that. Me, who said I wasn’t going to settle down until I was old.
Maybe she knew what she was doing, setting up the house manager thing at this exact period of my life. Like she knew I’d start feeling a certain way when I got my own permanent house. With room for things like a woman and kids.
“It will be nice not to have to think about all the house shit,” I said, shrugging, playing it off.
“It’s—“ Lorenzo started before the front door flew open, banging off the wall hard.
And then there was Silvano, charging into the house.
“The fuck is going on?” Lorenzo asked as we both got to our feet, following Silvano into the living room, watching him charge at the TV, turning it on, and changing the channel.
And there we all stood in shock, watching as the news replayed video of Cosimo being shoved into the back of a cop car.
“What the fuck?” Lorenzo hissed, looking at Silvano.
“He’s being arrested for murder,” Silvano said, voice tighter than I’d ever heard it.
“What?” Lorenzo snapped.
Because, contrary to what TV or movies might make you think, you had to have permission to kill in our business. There was shit to think about. Like cleaning up the crime scene. Like blowback on the Family.
Silvano had no answers, though, only a head shake as his gaze went back to the TV, watching his brother’s mugshot pop up on the screen.
Cosimo Costa was tall—six-three—with a fit, but not bulky build, black hair, black eyes, a sharp jaw, and deep cheekbone hollows. No ink.
Even in his mugshot, he was in his usual all-black suit.
“Who did he kill?” Lorenzo asked as I read the crawl at the bottom of the screen.
“Nicholas Myers?” I said, squinting at Lorenzo, then Silvano, looking for some confirmation, someone to confirm they knew who it was, why this happened.
“I’ve never heard of him,” Lorenzo said, shaking his head. “This makes no fucking sense.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?” Silvano asked, mostly to himself.
I could see it on his face then.
Guilt.
Because he could have gotten rid of the body, cleaned up the evidence. He could have prevented this.
We all could have prevented this.
If he’d just brought us into the loop.
“Sil,” Lorenzo said, voice commanding, getting through to the man. “You need to go be with your mom,” he said, making Silvano stiffen, giving him a nod.
“Yeah.”
“We will be in touch if or when we can figure anything out.”
With that, Silvano moved out.
“We need to get to the bottom of this,” Lorenzo said, already reaching for his phone as he walked out of the room.
I reached for my own, but not before moving out onto the front porch.
“What is going on?” Ant asked, body tense, sensing shit was bad.
“Cosimo was just brought in on murder charges,” I told him. “We need a meeting. Get out the word. Any idea who Nicholas Myers is?”
“Never fucking heard of him,” Ant said, pulling out his phone.
It was going to be a long fucking day.
CHAPTER FOUR
Avery
“Don’t scream,” a voice said, making my heart shoot up into my throat, choking out a scream even if one was going to form.
My head whipped over, looking into the shadows of the alley, searching for the owner of the voice.
Not that I needed to see him to know who it was.
Renzo Lombardi.
The boss of the Lombardi Crime Family.
