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Ant nodded, and the gate opened. The guards walked with the vehicle, making our progress to the house slow as fuck. Finally, we rounded the top of the circular drive. As we opened our doors, we were held at gunpoint.
I slowly pulled my gun from my chest harness and laid it on the passenger floorboard of the SUV. Another guard ran his hands along my ribs, waistband of my trousers, and down my legs.
Stefano and Carmine were checked. Ant revealed the gun he had strapped to his chest.
Giada slid out of the vehicle. She smoothed her hands over her tight skirt. “Do you need to search me?”
The guard smiled at her, his gaze dropping to the fullness of her breasts. “Those are my orders.”
She held her arms out as the guard skimmed his hands over her hips.
As we turned to go into the house, Ant handed me his weapon. Although he was behind me, I trusted he’d have another gun in his holster before he joined me on the steps.
We entered the mansion.
“What the fuck?” Carmine whispered.
A man, in a perfectly tailored single-breasted black suit, was the only splash of color in the room.
“My name is Valentino Adami. Lazaro is my cousin.”
“Marco Bruno,” I said.
I didn’t know Lazaro well, and I had never met this cousin that I could recall. And since I intended to leave this white house bathed in blood, they didn’t need any other names.
White canvas stretched behind white frames as art on the white walls, and white lilies filled white vases on white marble tables.
My black shoes clicked against the white tile as we walked into the massive open floor plan.
Two more soldiers, all in black, stood sentry in the room.
“Does Adami have a problem with color?” Ant’s words echoed in the hall.
We paused in front of white double doors. A guard positioned on each side.
“Mr. Bruno,” Valentino swallowed hard. “Mr. Adami would like to speak to you privately.”
“No,” Giada said.
Stefano rested a hand on her arm, reminding her to be silent.
Valentino pushed the door open.
Lazaro Adami sat behind a massive black lacquer desk in a fucking white suit. Mid-fifties, dark hair, body honed of muscle while still carrying an air of wealth and power. A younger man, also in white, stood behind him.
Without waiting for permission, Ant entered the room with me.
“Don Bruno. I’ve been expecting you.” Adami indicated the seat in front of his desk. “Cigar?”
“We can dispense with pleasantries.” I sat in the chair. Ant positioned behind me, protecting my back should anyone get past Stefano in the hall. “I’m here on business.”
He nodded and stood.
Ant pulled his weapon.
Adami caressed the arm of his soldier when he reached for his. He turned to me and sighed. He ran his fingers over the smooth, polished surface of his desk. Then he walked to the wall of oversized windows. “I never wanted to start a war with the Bruno family.”
“You don’t want a war, yet you put a hit out on my father. Why?”
