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I snort. "I see why Giulia likes you."
"No, duh. It's because I'm a real treat. Text it to me later."
She flounces back into the midst of the party, and I quickly return to Bruno and Marcus, ignoring their glares as I nod my chin at the door. "Let's go."
"Back to Chicago," Marcus adds pointedly.
"For you two."
Bruno groans as we sweep out the doors and cross the street to the car I rented. "You're kidding. First, you interrupt me and that perfect ten, and now you want to stick around here to stir up more shit on your own? No. We're staying."
Marcus slams his door hard when he gets into the passenger side, throwing an acidic look at us as I slide into the driver seat and Bruno gets into the back. "We'releaving.Get over that b—" He catches himself when I crack my knuckles and level him with a look. "Whatever. Roberto, there's absolutely no fucking reason to stick around LA. Let's go home."
I ignore him as I pull into the busy streets, which makes my cousin swear creatively and simmer in his seat, arms folded over his chest. Bruno looks huffy, but I'd bet it has more to do with me interrupting him and Mandi than anything else.
I'm sure he'll forgive me when he finds out I've given her his number later. Call me fucking Cupid.
There's no reason to keep them here in LA, though. Giulia was right about it not being necessarily safe for Giovannis. It sure won't be after I track down Dante Parisi and do some snooping. Better to get them out and deal with the aftermath later.
Marcus seems pleased to see we're headed to the airport, but he fixes me sternly when I don’t get out with them. "Damn it, Roberto, don’t make me go to your father about this."
I give him a slim smile, the one I reserve for serious threats. It makes Bruno uncomfortable enough that he leaps out without another word. "Share my secret, and I'll share all of yours."
My cousin's slights against our family are just that: slight. First, gambling away carefully delegated funds, and then there's the occasional leak of information whenever he gets too drunk to mind his tongue. I've always cleaned up after his little slip-ups without a word to any other family member, but if he's going to go threatening our bond of brotherhood over this, I'll meet and raise him.
Marcus can clearly see that on my face because he finally rubs his face and sighs. "You wanna stay alone? Fine. But if you come home in a fucking body bag, I'm destroying the Russos."
"Fair enough."
Somewhat satisfied, he and Bruno walk away, and I pull back out into the streets of LA.
Dante Parisi is slippery. I'll give him that.
Tracking the mafioso down takes a few hours, but after some careful bribing, nosing around, and light blackmail, I wait in my rental car parked on the side of a residential street way out from the center of LA. There are large stucco-and-tile houses here with palm trees in their immaculate yards.
My sources said he'd show up here within the next half hour. I know it's not his house I'm watching, and there's no shot in hell that it's Giulia's because whoever he's meeting up with, they have alotof yard decor.
It's only been three hours since I watched Giulia leave the party with him. That's a long time for dinner. Was she with him the entire time? Did she still think he was interesting on the date? Fuck, did she let himkissher?
I grit my teeth at the thought and run my hands through my hair. What she and I have is something else. Something I've never felt before, and I know she feels it, too. Whatever's happened to make her deny it again, I know she doesn't have it with Dante Parisi. Maybe I'd drop it if I thought she liked the guy. By now, I'd be back in Chicago with Marcus and Bruno.
But I can't stop thinking about the tremble in her voice when she told me to get a replacement representative. She wouldn't do that unless it were serious—especially not with the upcoming exclusive gala. She would want a perfectly united front for the Five Families at the upper society shindig to help get more connections forVitalen. I plan on finding out what's happening, and tailing Dante Parisi might give me some answers.
As if my thoughts summoned the smug fucker, I watch as a gleaming muscle car turns onto this street and parks in front of the house I've been watching. He gets out and swaggers to the front door, and I don’t get a chance to see who answers before he slips inside.
It'd be best to stay right here but screw that. Thinking of his hand on Giulia's waist earlier has me out of the car and stalking to the house the mafioso just entered. I knock loudly, and when no one answers, I break the lock and storm in—only to find Dante sticking his tongue down some half-naked woman's throat.
She squeals and takes cover behind a garish couch, and Dante Parisi swears as he wheels to face me. His shirt is almost off, stained with the woman's lipstick, and he scrambles to get his suit pants back up around his hips even as his eyes narrow on me.
He's with this woman right after spending time with Giulia. If what she said holds any water and they are dating, then he's fucking cheating on her. And while I'm pretty sure they're not, I'll still enjoy this.
"You," he spits. "Younuisance. I'll have the Russos up your ass—"
I don’t hear the rest of what he says because my fist smashes into his chin. He staggers back into a wall, making an expensive painting come crashing down and splinter. To his credit, Dante Parisi promptly pushes off the wall and charges at me.
I sidestep him easily and literally kick his ass to send him toppling into an overdecorated side table. I'm vaguely aware that the woman in here a moment ago is screeching in the other room. If she's on the phone with the police, Dante's a massive idiot for picking her as a sidepiece. Everyone in the mafia knows not to call the authorities.
"Get up," I snap.
