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“It will never be enough, Drago.”
I don’t hear a sound, so she must have whispered it.
“Of glitter?” I ask.
Sienna’s knuckles gently brush my cheek, her lips spreading into a smile. “Of you.”
The smile isreal, and it makes her entire face glow. Her gaze falls to my palm where I’m still holding the rest of that damn glittery powder, and that smile transforms into a mischievous grin.
I frown. “Don’t you dar—”
Her warm breath blows on my hand, sending a cloud of gold particles all over me. A million shimmering specks float through the air like tiny gems while my wife laughs, watching them land on my head, face, and even stick to my chest.
There was a time in my life when I would have found this stunt immature. Silly. But from my wife—the most valuable jewel I’ve ever held in my hands? I’m having a hard time hiding the grin that’s threatening to split across my face. All the pretty rocks on which I built my empire are used to make a person shine on the outside. My Sienna lights up every corner of my soul.
“Remember what I do to people who cross me,mila moya?”
“Gold looks good on you, Drago.” Another fit of giggles. “Something about the wall, wasn’t it?”
“Exactly.” I leap from the recliner, grab her around the waist, and carry her across the room.
* * *
“I'll be back in a few hours,” I tell Relja, who’s on guard duty by the front door, and put on my coat. “If anyone allows my wife to set a foot outside the compound walls, I’m going to snap their neck.”
“Sure, boss.” He nods, eyes focused over my head.
“If anyone reports anything even remotely suspicious, contact me immediately.”
“I will.”
I turn to leave when I feel a tap on my shoulder and look back. “What?”
“There’s something on your head,” he mumbles.
I rake my fingers through my hair. My hand comes back with several specks of sparkling gold dust. I squeeze the bridge of my nose and curse.
Heading to a meeting with Boston Cosa Nostra faction. With fucking glitter in my hair. I stride toward the garage, smirking at the absurdity of it all.
We arranged to meet an hour out of the city. I would have preferred for it to happen in my club, but Nera Leone wanted to stay off Ajello’s radar.
I pull up my car next to a black sedan with blacked-out windows, killing the engine, and Filip parks next to me. The only other vehicle in the diner’s parking lot is another pricey car, tinted windows included. Looks like Don Leone’s wife decided to drive up here instead of flying because these don’t look like a rental.
Aclosedsign hangs on the diner’s door, but the lights are on, and even though there are no servers anywhere, a woman is seated at a table on the far right. Two men in black suits are standing behind her, hands clasped behind their backs.
“Only two bodyguards,” I say as I exit my car.
Filip follows my gaze and shrugs. “Maybe she wants to be clear that it’s a peaceful meeting.”
“Or, maybe she wants us to know that she’s not scared of us.” I push open the door and head toward the woman who has been running Boston Cosa Nostra while her husband has been ill.
I’ve never met Nera Leone in person, but I know that she’s much younger than her husband who’s in his late sixties. I expected a woman of around forty, perhaps, not one in her midtwenties. If that. With her dark-blonde hair spilling over her long red coat, I would never have pegged her for the cunning opponent I’d heard much about.
I may not conduct business in the Boston area, but I keep tabs on what’s going on up there. Knowing all the big players in the field, and uncovering whatever secrets they are trying to hide, is a must in my line of work. It’s not common knowledge that Don Leone has been unwell for quite some time, and that his wife has unofficially taken over the Boston Cosa Nostra Family for the time being. Since she is here rather than her husband, it means he’s not getting any better.
“I’m sorry to see that Don Leone is still not feeling well,” I say as I take a seat across from her while Filip comes to stand behind me.
Nera nods in greeting. “He’s recuperating.”
