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My throat tightens. I swallow thickly. Head spins because I’m not sure what the boss is saying, not sure if he’s angry or accepting. Hell, maybe he isn’t sure either.
Which means maybe I really do have a window of opportunity here.
And I have to fucking take it.
“The funerals,” I say.
Both Carlo and the boss frown.
“Ralph Romero has to attend his father’s and brother’s and sister-in-law’s and nephews’ funerals,” I explain. “He’s got to show that he’s a grieving son and brother and uncle. He’ll have to leave his mansion to attend the funerals tomorrow.”
“Sure.” Carlo grunts. “We’ve thought of hitting him at the funerals or on the road. But he’ll be even more protected while outside the safety of the mansion. He’ll know he’s more vulnerable outdoors, will be expecting us to take a shot.”
“Perfect,” I say with a smile. “We want him to think that. In fact, leak the news that the Volini Family is absolutely planning to hit Ralph Romero at one of the funerals. Drive-by at the cemetery. Car-bomb along the way. Snipers. Drones. Whatever. Put the rumors out there through some credible snitches on the street. Get every Romero captain and soldier on high alert for the funerals.” My smile widens to a grin. “Leaving only a bare minimum guarding the empty mansion at that time.”
“Making it easy for you to sneak in.” The boss grins, glances at Carlo.
Carlo grunts with grudging admiration. “And you’ll be waiting for Ralph Romero when he gets back to his private wing in his fortress of a mansion. Might work. But what about getting out?”
I glance at the boss. “Once Ralph is dead, the Romero Family is without a leader. I’ll message Carlo when it’s done, and if you can be in position to attack the Romero mansion with a force of Volini soldiers right then, the leaderless Romero captains might stand down instead of risking their lives. A leaderless army often surrenders—especially when the leader wasn’t particular well-liked.” I shrug. “Ralph Romero was an asshole as a teenager, arrogant and vindictive with his bodyguards and the house staff. People remember that stuff. And now Ralph’s murdered the well-loved old Don. Killed his own brother and a pregnant woman and two kids. My guess is the Romero soldiers fear Ralph Romero more than they respect him—certainly more than they love him. Their loyalty to the Romero Family might have died with the old Don. If Ralph is dead, things go better for the soldiers if someone takes over and keeps the operations running smoothly. Nobody wants to die in a war when they could be making money by sticking with business as usual.”
Anthony Volini tents his fingers again, thinks for a long moment, glances at Carlo, who shrugs, grunts, and then nods.
“Risky, but it does give us a shot at winning,” says Carlo gruffly. He shoots a curious glance in my direction. “But even if the Romero soldiers do stand down when they realize Ralph is dead, there’s a pretty good chance Ralph’s bodyguards gun you down anyway, before surrendering.”
I shrug. “I’ll take that chance.”
The boss narrows his eyes at me again, and I see that he knows where this is heading.
Knows why I’m doing this.
Knows what I want.
“What do you want?” Anthony Volini wants to hear me say it. “What do you want if you make it out alive and we win the day, Zedd?”
“You know what I want.” My jaw tightens, vision narrowing with single-minded focus.
“My daughter?” That fatherly possessiveness flashes dark in his eyes.
“Nah, she’s already mine.” I chuckle dryly, then shake my head without breaking eye contact with my soon-to-be father-in-law. “What I want from you is approval. I don’t want to take Amelia away from the Family, away from her legacy, away from the life she was born into. She’s a rare beacon of light in this dark world, and I think the Volini Family will be stronger with her in it.” I shrug, rub the back of my thick neck, then shrug again and clear my throat. “So I guess I’m asking for your blessing, old man. Your daughter’s hand in marriage. An official arrangement.”
Carlo lurches with incredulous laughter. “In your fucking dreams, Zedd. We’ll be the laughing stock of the Consortium. An arranged marriage between a full-blooded Italian princess and a . . . a mongrel? Never. Gonna. Happen.”
My fists tighten by my sides, but I ignore the insult and stay focused on Anthony Volini. He’s shown a flash of humanity today, real fatherly love beneath the stern possessiveness of a patriarch.
Anthony Volini says nothing.
And that says everything.
She's mine.
“Boss?” Carlo blinks in disbelief. “Boss, you cannot seriously be considering letting this—”
Anthony Volini raises his right hand, commanding silence from his yipping lap-dog. “There is no question oflettinghim do anything. Amelia has already chosen him, and I know damn well that she would run away with Zedd if he asked.” He glances at me now, savage eyes softening slightly, lips tightening to a thin smile. “Asking my blessing is a sign of respect. A sign of intention. A sign that maybe the lone wolf wants to step out of the shadows and take his place in the pack, become part of the Family.”
Carlo almost falls down. “The Family? Boss, you aren’t thinking straight. Listen to me—”
“No,youlisten, Carlo.” The boss shoots a dagger-sharp glance at Carlo, then turns that gaze in my direction, a strange affection warming his eyes. “Zedd doesn’t need to do any of this. He can run off with my baby girl and leave the Volini Family to either look weak or start an unwinnable war. But he’s giving us a path to not only salvage our respect but actually win against the Romero Family.” He glances at Carlo again. “Carlo, my loyal oldcompagno. We are Italian in blood, but in our hearts we are American. If this country has taught us anything it is that anyone can rise up in America, that blood is not destiny, that the winners get to rewrite the rules.” He shrugs coolly. “And if we win the Romero territory, all of Georgia and Florida will belong to the Volini Family.” The boss grins now. “And that is a lot of territory to control, Carlo. My son will grow up to be a fine boss, but he cannot handle so much territory. We will need Amelia to step up as a leader, mature from a princess to a queen.” He nods at me now, then slowly rises from his chair and holds out his hand to me. “And a queen needs a king. A king that she chooses for herself.”
