Deathless & Divided (The Chicago War #1) (34 page)

Damian had a hard time keeping his baser instincts under control as he looked Lily over. He’d bitten and kissed her lips a rosy red. Her hair was a mess from his hands and their frenzied fucking. She looked goddamn gorgeous. Like he’d been all over her.

“Is that …?”

“Dino’s car,” Damian said.

“Crap,” Lily muttered.

“Don’t worry about it. Just go inside, go back to sleep, and don’t act surprised when you see me sitting at the kitchen table in the morning.”

Lily frowned. “But—”

Damian interrupted whatever she was going to say by pulling her in close for a kiss. “What did you see, Lily?”

She didn’t even think about it.

“Nothing. I saw nothing.”

Damian stared at the colorful screen of his laptop, wondering if he should make the call.

“What are you doing?” Tommas asked, tipping back his beer to finish what was left.

“Thinking,” Damian replied.

“It’s a little late to be having second thoughts.”

Damian flipped his cousin the middle finger. “Not about the wedding.”

“Good, because you’re due at the altar in …” Tommas trailed off, checking his watch. “Fifteen hours.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“You should sleep, Damian.”

Damian had too much shit to consider before he could sleep.

“What are you still doing here?” Damian asked. “The party ended hours ago.”

Well, if you could consider a few friends hanging around drinking and doing nothing else a party. Tommas refused to let Damian get married without some kind of final goodbye to his single life. Damian consented to his cousin and a couple of Tommas’ friends coming over to his apartment for a few beers and a game of poker.

Damian won the poker match. He always did.

“Giving you company,” Tommas finally answered.

Damian passed Tommas a look. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Yeah, well, fucking deal with it. I’m not giving you anything else.”

Tommas didn’t have to. Damian already knew. Abriella Trentini was on a shorter leash than ever before. With the families fighting like they were, it was probably damn near impossible for Tommas to get any time around the girl.

“You’re sulking about Abriella again, aren’t you?” Damian asked.

Tommas scowled. “I thought you didn’t want to know.”

“I don’t, but I figure it would be rude if I didn’t ask.”

“That, and you like to know everything.”

“Partly,” Damian agreed.

“I just … it fucking sucks,” Tommas decided on saying.

Damian could understand that. He wouldn’t like it very much if the thing he loved was kept from him, either. Even if Tommas’ and Abriella’s situation was a precarious one simply because of their ages and other minor details. Like her grandfather.

“My place feels empty,” Tommas added.

“If you grow a uterus and your dick turns inside out, don’t call me to whine about it,” Damian said, chuckling.

Tommas opened his mouth to speak, but shut it just as fast. “Asshole.”

“I try.”

“I should get going,” Tommas said, sighing. “Try to sleep.”

Well, Abriella would be at the wedding tomorrow standing with Lily. As long as Tommas kept things clean, he could probably get away with at least talking to his lover.

“Are you good?” Tommas asked Damian.

Damian nodded toward the apartment door. “I’m fine, Tommas. Really.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Damian had never been surer of anything in his life like he was of Lily. He adored that woman—loved her entirely.

“Yeah, get out of here,” Damian said.

Tommas smiled and pushed up from the chair. “I’ll be here to pick you up bright and early. Confession before pleasure, as the saying goes.”

Damian scoffed. “I never confess anything.”

He had nothing worth confessing. Nothing he wanted forgiveness for, anyway.

“Whatever. It’s tradition for the Rossi family. Suck it up. Knowing you, you’re going to need a couple of extra hours for penance.”

“Hey—” Damian stopped himself before adding, “Probably. Get the hell out of here already.”

Tommas’ hands flew up. “Going, going.”

The moment his apartment door closed, Damian picked up his cell phone and dialed a familiar number. Lily’s cheerful voice picked up on the second ring. Damian cringed at the noise level in the background.

Approved club
, he reminded himself. There were also a group of body guards Terrance had appointed for the girls for Lily’s last hurrah. That did not help the swell of jealousy building inside Damian’s chest.

“Hello?” Lily asked.

“Sweetheart.”

Damian could practically feel her smile as Lily said, “You’re not supposed to call me tonight.”

“I think what you’re looking for is that I’m not supposed to see you,” Damian replied.

“Same thing.” The slight giddy tone she sported told Damian his girl had been drinking those ugly green things again. “Oh, he’s cute, Ella.”

Damian felt the growl-like sound claw outward from his throat. “
Lily
.”

“Hmm?”

“How many drinks have you had?”

Lily laughed. “Definitely not seven.”

“You’re awful.”

“You love it,” she shot back.

Damian smirked. “I do.”

“Good,” Lily hummed.

The final couple of weeks leading up to their wedding had been hard. Not just because of the mess going on around them but because Damian knew how he hurt Lily by keeping what he had from her. They didn’t talk about it a lot but he figured they didn’t have to for her pain to be clear to him.

She didn’t understand. She didn’t act like she did.

But Lily loved him.

That was what mattered most to Damian.

“Why are you calling?” Lily asked.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t making a run for it.”

“Liar.” Damian flinched. Lily caught what she said quickly enough and muttered, “Kidding. You’re still going to be waiting at the other end for me?”

“Always.”

“Then I’ll meet you there.”

“All right. Love you,” Damian said.

“Love you,” Lily whispered.

Damian ended the call and dropped his phone on the couch cushion. For another twenty minutes, he stared at the screen of his laptop again, letting the opened window for the conference call option taunt him further.

He didn’t need to ask for permission to do the final job Dino asked for. Well, the job wasn’t only for Dino. Killing Terrance Trentini would work to Damian’s favor in a lot of ways. It would take him out of the spotlight as the potential for a future boss and nobody would ever believe that Damian could kill Terrance. Not being as close as they seemed to be.

They weren’t really close at all.

Nonetheless, killing a boss could come with consequences. Not just from inside the Outfit, but from families in other states aligned with them. Syndicates had protocols and rules for that sort of thing. They expected some kind of say at the end of it all.

Before he could overthink it further, Damian reached forward and hit the call button on a contact he’d purposely changed the name of in case anyone ever got a look at his list. The trip he’d taken to New York for the Commission and meeting of the bosses had been beneficial in more ways than one.

Just because Terrance didn’t like certain families didn’t mean Damian couldn’t have connections with them. Keeping friends close but enemies closer had a whole different meaning in the mafia.

Damian checked the clock on the bottom, right-hand corner of the screen and noted the late time. He probably shouldn’t be calling a New York Don without first going through some form of connections between other men in the family, but Damian didn’t have that option at his disposal. Not considering everything.

Just when Damian was about to hang up the call, Dante Marcello picked up on his end. Dante ruled over the dominating family in New York as their leader. Being the Marcello Don also meant Dante had a great deal of control and influence with the other major families of the Commission. He was also what many men considered to be the Boss of bosses. Damian didn’t want problems from other families arising because of Terrance’s death. Having Dante on his side, one of the most ruthless crime bosses in North America, would certainly help Damian’s cause.

“
Ciao
,” Dante greeted as the screen flickered with the Marcello Don’s picture. “Marcello speaking. If you talk any louder than a mouse, the next time I see you will not end pleasantly.”

Damian laughed under his breath. “Oh?”

The live shot of an office Damian didn’t recognize filled the background as Dante sat down in a large, leather chair. Even more surprising was the toddler boy Dante held, snuggled into his chest. The young boy’s face was hidden into Dante’s neck. In footie pajamas and with just a peek of a thumb sticking out, Damian guessed the boy was sucking on the digit.

Damian grinned at the sight of Dante holding the child like the two were in the midst of snuggling. It was such a contradictory sight compared to the man Damian knew Dante to be. While Damian had been aware Dante had a young, adopted son, he didn’t realize the man was such a hands-on Dad.

Apparently even cold men could be daddies.

“Damian Rossi,” Dante said, grinning. “This is a surprise.”

“Sorry for the late call,” Damian said, keeping his voice down for the child’s sake.

Dante shrugged. “If it were any other night, you wouldn’t have caught me. Michel is having problems with his molars coming in. He keeps us up a great deal of the time. What can I do for you?”

Damian had struck an unlikely friendship with Dante during that meeting of the bosses. Dante was sharp, quick, and brutal when he wanted something. Damian appreciated that. They’d exchanged contact numbers just in case something came up in the future. Damian supposed something had, now.

“It’s an interesting situation,” Damian said vaguely.

Dante chuckled. “They always are. No beating around the bush, what do you want?”

“Hits on high members should always go through the Commission, shouldn’t they?”

“They should,” Dante said slowly, raising a brow high. “Usually it’s passed through the grapevine and not a direct call with an actual face behind the hit, Damian.”

“I’m not the usual, I guess.”

“I guess not.” Dante sighed, patting the bottom of his son as he asked, “Who’s it for?”

“Terrance.”

Dante’s expression didn’t change on the screen at all. “Why?”

Damian shrugged. “Nothing is ever simple and getting into it all would be pointless on your end.”

“It would,” Dante agreed. “I’m curious though, so indulge me.”

“I don’t want to be you,” Damian said.

Dante smiled. “That was not the answer I expected to hear.”

“There’s more but that’s the most important part.”

“I heard whispers about trouble in Chicago, but I wasn’t sure,” Dante said. “They say it’s bad enough for a war.”

“Something like that.” Damian raked a hand through his hair and asked, “I know the request is supposed to go through all the bosses, but I figured one was enough as long as it was the right one.”

“Why am I the right one, Damian?”

“
Capo di tutti capi
,” Damian murmured.

The Boss of bosses.

“I’ve never claimed that title,” Dante said quietly.

“You don’t have to.”

Not for it to be true.

Dante sucked in a deep breath like he was considering it all. “Regardless of what I say, the hit will go through, won’t it?”

“Probably,” Damian said honestly. “But I know you’ve got a few chips in the pool down here and a new boss might do you some good, too.”

“Who would take it?” Dante asked.

“Hard to say.”

“A new boss would do well. Lucian would love to finally get that apology he’s owed.”

Damian shook his head. “Is that all?”

“Believe me, in Cosa Nostra, an apology means more than anyone could possibly understand. It isn’t too late for the Outfit and the Marcellos to reconcile their issues if the right boss were to take the seat. A boss with the right motives and morals.”

“Who’s the right boss for you?” Damian asked, throwing the man’s question right back at him.

“That’s not for me to decide, just make sure he’s married when he comes to his first meeting. Make the hit, Damian. What else do you need from me?”

“Keep my name out of it. On all sides.”

“Will do,” Dante said. “You should have put the feelers out to the other bosses just to be safe.”

Damian wasn’t worried. “You can say I did.”

Dante laughed. “Yeah, that works, too. One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I heard you’re getting married.”

Damian cleared his throat, unsurprised. “Tomorrow, actually. Didn’t you get an invitation?”

“We did, but declined. I appreciated the thought but you know how it goes.”

“No apology, no Marcellos.”

“Exactly. Is your marriage for love?” Dante asked.

“Was yours?”

“No, but my wife has a way about her. Are you marrying for love?”

“It wasn’t for love,” Damian said.

“But?”