Revenge (26 page)

They reached the Mercedes and found Pino
slumped behind the wheel. Enrico dived into the back seat. “Fuck!”
Ruggero exclaimed, wrenching the driver’s door open and shoving
Pino’s body over to the passenger side. He motioned with his gun to
the other guard, indicating that he should drive. Ruggero jumped in
the back next to Enrico and they roared off, the cars with the
other guards and Dom’s men right behind them.

Ruggero looked at Enrico, seeing the blood on
his jacket. “How bad?”

“I’ll live.” Enrico pulled his mobile phone
out and called Dom. “Pino’s gone. Did you lose anyone?”

“My driver, and one of my men is injured. I’m
taking him to the field clinic.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Perhaps you should return home.”

“No.” His talk with Dom couldn’t wait.

He leaned forward and spoke to the guard
behind the wheel. They changed direction and headed for one of
their safe command posts in the city. Enrico settled back on the
seat, closing his eyes, the wound on his arm throbbing. Dom was
hiding something. They’d fought before, certainly. But never had
Enrico doubted Dom’s loyalty, his love. But now… Dom had gone over
his head to La Provincia, which meant Dom was willing to risk
Enrico’s life. La Provincia wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate a
capo
who wasn’t acting in the best interests of his
cosca
or the ‘Ndrangheta. And Dom would be ready to take
Enrico’s place if they did.

They pulled up to a building owned by the
Lucchesi
cosca
. There were several soundproof, heavily
armored apartments on the bottom floor with separate entrances that
could be used for meetings or eluding the police. One of the
apartments had been set up as a rudimentary clinic. The injured man
was taken there so the doctor could attend to him.

Dom and Enrico entered the apartment next
door and sat down at the simple wooden table in the kitchen,
neither of them saying a word until Dom noticed the blood seeping
from the hole in Enrico’s jacket. “Shall I get the doctor?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

Dom frowned. “You’re still bleeding. I’d
better bandage it.” He rose and fetched a first aid kit from the
bathroom. When he returned, he pulled out bandages, gauze, and
antibiotic ointment while Enrico removed his jacket and rolled up
his left sleeve. The shallow tear oozed blood, but he’d been
lucky.

While Dom was cleaning the wound, Enrico
spoke. Business first, the things they couldn’t discuss on the
phone. “What’s happened so far?”

“We’ve hit the Vigentino, Quinto Romano, and
Crescenzago districts so far. I don’t think they were expecting
such an aggressive move. We took several command posts and many
weapons.”

“Casualties?”

“Three dead, five wounded on our side, at
least a dozen dead on theirs. Carlo has let his men get sloppy. We
have men fanning out to Carlo’s other strongholds.”

“
Bene
. Have you heard from Carlo?”

“Dario has asked to speak with you.”

“When?”

“Tonight.” Dom checked his watch. “In an
hour.”

“Where?” Enrico did not want to meet with the
Andrettis. Not this soon.

“Any place of your choosing.”

Interesting. Why would they be so
conciliatory so quickly? He didn’t like it. “Tell him no.”

Dom looked startled. “He feels insulted.
Refusing to see him will not help.”

Enrico stared at him hard. “You made this
mess. You clean it up.”

“I was trying to help you.”

“I don’t need it.” He watched Dom’s face
carefully, but hurt was all he saw. He leaned closer to his friend
and lowered his voice. “I don’t understand you. I’ve made my wishes
clear, and yet you defy me. I spoke to Don Battista in the car on
the way here. Why have you spoken to La Provincia about Kate?”

“I haven’t. I mentioned her to Don Battista,
but it was a personal question, not an official one.”

“What was his advice?”

Dom lowered his eyes. “He said I should stay
out of it, that he would speak to you.”

“Are you going to listen to him?”

Dom looked up at Enrico. “He is my
padrino
too, so yes, I will let him handle it. But I would
shake you until you saw sense if I could. You nearly got us all
killed. Because of your selfishness!”

Enrico blanched. Dom was right. And wasn’t he
also right to involve La Provincia if he thought that necessary?
“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t save our lives.” Dom smeared the
antibiotic ointment over the wound, his touch rough.

“I know.” Killing Vincenzo and turning down
Delfina—both were grave insults. Vendettas had been waged over
less, and there were many in La Provincia who would sympathize with
the Andrettis if the matter came before them for resolution. Giving
Dario and Carlo fancy cars or a pile of cash wouldn’t allow the
Andrettis to save face. No, a deeper sacrifice was called for.

“I’m thinking about offering them the Bicocca
district.” It would strengthen the Andrettis’ hold on the
construction business in Milan, giving them more than half of it.
“Kate is part of it—she walks away from all this and is let alone.
And if she wants to stay with me, she stays.”

Dom frowned as he taped gauze over the cut.
“You’re asking a lot.”

“I’ll marry Delfina as well, if necessary.
But I keep Kate if she’s willing.”

“What if the Andrettis don’t accept?”

Enrico blew out a breath. He didn’t want to
make the offer, but if he had to, to stop the bloodshed, to save
Kate, he would. “We give them a discount on the wash.”

Dom stared at him. “You’re willing to
sacrifice your precious principles?”

“I am. For her.”

Dom sat back in his chair, his mouth open.
“You really do care about her.”

“What did you think? That I’d do all this on
a whim?”

“I thought you’d give her up if you had
to.”

“That I will not do. Not unless she desires
it.”

“You would even marry her?”

“I would.” His answer, so unhesitating,
surprised even him. But it was true. He loved her; he could admit
that now. It wasn’t lust that drove him. It was love. It was
her.

“You’re a fool. She’ll never accept you,
she’ll never accept this,” Dom said, gesturing around them.

“That may be.” Enrico returned Dom’s stare.
He was tired of all of this. Tired of waiting. Maybe Dario and
Carlo were trying to set a trap, but this evening he was through
being cautious. “Call them. Let’s get this over with.”

“You’ve changed your mind?” When Enrico
nodded, Dom asked, “How deep will you go on the discount?”

“Up to five percent.” It was a significant
offer. If they didn’t accept, he’d appeal to La Provincia. No one
could fault his generosity.

“You know, this wouldn’t have happened if we
were stronger.”

“I will not resort to drugs and prostitution
to fill our coffers.”

Dom sighed. “But think of what we could do
then. We could hire more men. We could drive the Andrettis out of
Milan. Don’t you want that?”

Enrico’s smile was bitter. “More than
anything. But not at that cost.”

“So you’ll bend the rules to save her, but
not to save the rest of us? You’ll even weaken us over her.” Dom
smacked his fist onto his knee. “Don’t you see what you’re
doing?”

Dom was right, and at the same time, he was
wrong. It wasn’t right to stoop so low to win. How could he look at
himself in the mirror if he did? But he was risking them all, he
couldn’t debate that. And for a woman he wasn’t even sure he could
have. It was risky and foolish, and very unlike the Enrico Lucchesi
he knew. But he couldn’t help himself. He wanted her, and he would
win her. If it was the last thing he did.

He looked at Dom. “I see everything very
clearly. And I will be the victor.”

They met the Andrettis on neutral ground, at
a safe house owned by the d’Imperios. Dario and Carlo were already
seated on one side of a highly polished mahogany dining table when
Dom and Enrico arrived. After everyone had been searched for
weapons, the guards retreated outside to wait. Dom and Enrico took
seats across from the Andrettis.

Silence prevailed. Enrico ignored Carlo and
looked at Dario first, his aquiline nose, generous mouth, and large
dark eyes reminding him of Toni. His hair was even the same shade
of blue black.
Cristo
. It hurt to look at him.

Dario flexed his right hand, and the missing
little finger drew his gaze. He’d never spoken to Dario about that
incident, all those years ago, when both of them had been caught up
in the fight between their fathers. Dario was lucky he had a right
hand at all, maimed though it was. He nodded in Enrico’s direction,
perhaps acknowledging the debt he owed him.

Enrico held his gaze for a moment, then he
turned to Carlo. He hadn’t seen him since Toni’s funeral. He looked
a bit thinner, but otherwise the same—his thick silver hair combed
back off his face, his sharp nose jutting above thin lips, his
cream suit finely cut, his attire expensive and ostentatious. The
diamond ring on the little finger of his left hand and the gold
Rolex at his wrist winked in the light from the chandelier
overhead.

Carlo glared at Enrico, his eyes blazing.
Enrico was sure his own were hardly more neutral. Dom shifted
beside him, no doubt wanting to dispel the mounting tension. But
Enrico knew the value of silence. Someone else—preferably
Carlo—would be the one to break it.

Carlo pulled a cigar out of his breast
pocket, his movements unhurried. He clipped the end off, then lit
it, taking several slow puffs until it caught the flame. Smoke
curled around his face as he sat back in his chair. He contemplated
the burning cigar for a moment, dragging out the wait, then he
raised his eyes to Enrico’s. “So, you have the courage to meet my
challenge face to face.”

Enrico bristled, but that was what Carlo
wanted. He took a breath, then let it out. “That was a challenge,
was it? Beating old people, terrorizing my clients. How noble of
you. If you wanted to meet with me, you could’ve just asked.”

Dom nudged him, his eyes pleading with him to
behave. Not bloody likely. He turned back to Carlo.

Carlo took a long drag on his cigar, then let
the smoke out through his nose and mouth. “I could’ve just asked,
he says.” He looked at his son. “Do you think Lucchesi would have
responded to a polite request?” Dario shrugged. Carlo turned away
from him with a grimace.

Enrico looked at Dario, sizing him up as a
possible ally. Dom had said Dario was angry, but he didn’t seem
upset. He turned his attention back to Carlo. “So what is it that
you want—other than my head on a platter.”

Carlo laughed. “Your head on a platter is
just the start.” He drew on the cigar, his cheeks hollowing out as
he inhaled. Then he sent a stream of smoke across the table, into
Enrico’s face. “Aside from that, I want you and your”—he waved his
hand to indicate Dom—“ilk out of Milan.”

Enrico ignored the smoke. Carlo wouldn’t bait
him so easily. “Anything else?”

Carlo’s mouth shifted into a leer. “Now that
the American has shed her husband, she’ll need a new man in her
bed. I am willing to oblige her.”

A surge of adrenaline sent Enrico’s heart
into overdrive. “I would think you’d rather avenge Vincenzo than
cuckold his memory.”

Carlo shrugged. “She already gave him the
horns. What more damage could I do?” He sucked on the cigar again.
“Though what you say has merit. He was my nephew.” He met and held
Enrico’s gaze. “Of course, I blame you for what happened. She may
have pulled the trigger, but his death was your doing. You couldn’t
resist an opportunity to hurt an Andretti by stealing his
wife.”

“You think I hate you that much?”

Carlo laughed, then started to cough. His
voice rasped when he spoke. “Of course you do. Just as I hate you.
That much.” His eyes went flat and cold on the words.

Enrico leaned forward. “Enough with the
pleasantries. Why are we
really
here?”

Carlo set the cigar in a crystal ashtray and
clasped his hands together. “As I said, I want the Lucchesi stench
out of Milan. Perhaps then I can forgive… certain
transgressions.”

“Vincenzo was not my fault. He brought that
on himself.”

Carlo’s voice hoarsened. “And what of my
Toni? Did she deserve your mistreatment?”

“What mistreatment? I
loved
her, I
treated her like a queen.”

“You know what you did. Your disrespect,
taking that little slut into your bed when Toni was barely cold in
her grave.” He stared daggers at Enrico.

A flush rose up his neck. “She’d been dead
six months.”

“You couldn’t wait to replace her. To get a
child by some other woman.” Carlo paused. “Of course, your own
weakness thwarted those plans.”

Enrico said nothing. His teeth ground
together, the muscles bunching in his jaw as Carlo continued.