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I turned back to Riccardo. He had seven boys at last count and his wife was a force of nature. “Got room for another?”
Riccardo glanced at the teen and grinned. “Sure, Boss.”
I nodded over to Riccardo. “Go with Riccardo. Get some food and some sleep. We will talk in a few days.” I got into the car and watched Riccardo ruffle Paolo’s hair before Lucio gunned it.
We’d left men cleaning up the bodies, and an unexplained empty boat for the port to sort out. It would cost to keep this quiet, but no one that didn’t deserve it was dead. And finally, I allowed myself to think about what else I had to do. I glanced out of the window and wondered why it should botherme. Alessandro meant nothing to me. He had simply been a convenience.
And now he would be a dead one.
I answered Gia’s call, glad of the distraction, and updated him. “Do you know any more about Gabriel Amato?” I needed to talk to Alessandro, but I needed information first.
“Nothing I haven’t already told you,” Gia said, “but interestingly enough his nephew is here.”
“Here where?” I demanded.
“In one of the suites at the Palace.” I frowned when he named our exclusive hotel. “I granted permission last week and completely forgot to tell you with the wedding and everything.” Gia sounded guilty but I didn’t blame him. Any rival family had to have permission to stay in our area, even if technically the Amato family weren’t rivals.
“Why is he here?”
“A wedding. College buddy. Not involved in the business. He’s a school football coach and his soon-to-be-wife is a thoracic surgeon. Marcello has minimal security with him.”
That was interesting and sounded refreshingly normal.
“He would expect you to introduce yourself. He’s in your territory.” I looked at my watch. Was it really only a quarter after one?
“I could go now.” I sent a quick text to Terry, who assured me everything was fine, and that he thought Alessandro would be good for me. I stared at the text for a while as Lucio drove us to the hotel. It had to be him. There was no other explanation.
I knew from the moment I sat down with Marcello Amato that I was looking at a worthy opponent. I just didn’t know how involved he was with his uncle. At thirty-one, Marcello wasn’t even under-boss for Gabriel, that was his cousin Saul, even though Marcello was officially his heir. I tried to discern any family likeness to Alessandro, but I didn’t get the same strongconnection I had with the young picture of Caterina. Marcello had been born in Chicago and had two younger sisters.
“I understand congratulations are in order.” Marcello said.
“Thank you. No plans yourself?” He shook his head and for a moment a shadow passed over his face, but it was so quick I wasn’t sure it had been there at all. “I can recommend it.” I pushed.
He met my gaze. “And yet you are here at two in the morning and not at home in bed with your new husband.”
I shrugged. “The joys of the entertainment industry.” The server arrived with our drinks. Mine was just coke but served to look like it was a mixer.
“Not celebrating?” I gestured at the light-beer bottle in his hand.
“Long weekend. I don’t have to make sure the groom gets to the altar, but if the amount he and the best-man were putting away this evening is anything to go by, the job might fall to me anyway. If not, there’s a chance the bride might use her scalpel on us for practice.”
We talked about football for a while, then families. I knew his mother had died recently and expressed my condolences. His father—Gabriel’s younger brother—had died when a drunk had driven his truck into his father’s new Porsche. He thanked me for my consideration, then tipped his head to the side. “Does it get any easier?”
I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I couldn’t resist a calculated answer. “Grief or betrayal?”
“Why do they always go hand in hand?” He asked lightly, but his eyes glittered in anger. I was silent for a moment. Any comment could go badly wrong.
“I’m just finding that out this week.”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Is that anything to do with your change in spouse?”
“Yes,” I agreed and drained my coke, placing the empty glass down. “I suggest we take this conversation upstairs and then you can tell me the real reason you’re in my city.” Because I knew for damn certain the wedding had nothing to do with it.
I just wasn’t sure if the answer had anything to do with my husband.
22
Alessandro
