Page 74 of She Belongs to Me

“True.”

He shrugged and took a huge gulp of his coffee. “On my end, no new scorching news on Adonis out of America. An ongoing investigation. No new deaths either.”

“I have a feeling that’s going to change.”

It was just a gut feeling.

“With all this burgeoning new information, what do you want to do?”

“You’re going to go get a shower and find a way to garner some energy. We’re going to have a meeting with Gio whether he likes it or not.”

He nodded, but I could tell he was bone weary. “You want Enzo involved?”

“You bet. I’ll text you with the time, but you’ll have a couple of hours. Use them. You’re not getting any younger, Luca. You should remember that.”

“Thanks, boss. I guess you need to keep that in mind as well.” His entire face was lit up as if he knew a secret.

“Very funny.”

He was laughing, but the man knew me even better than my brother did. Maybe my personality had changed. That didn’t alter what my world had been shoved into. In a way, the tragedy Alexandra had endured was the reason I might not be caught with my pants down by Mattia.

As I picked up my phone, my mind wandered to whether Mattia was truly fighting with various American syndicates like Adonis or working with one.

Perhaps Mattia would secure a great coup that could affect a dozen syndicates. And had Gregory somehow get himself mixed up in some early mafia shit? He had defended a few low-level players, but he’d never mentioned trouble. Maybe my mind was working overtime.

Should I put the fear of God into Gio or let it ride? Mattia was something else altogether. I had to play this carefully. Too many pieces were intertwined.

The question and the possibly significant meaning were daunting.

CHAPTER 22

Nico

Gregory.

He’d been on my mind even more than before, the documentation and photographs from his murder haunting me. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but I knew I was right. Something was missing about my friend. But what? In my frustration, I’d made a call to a buddy of mine in the States. He’d been an old police captain in the same precinct where Greg’s murder had been handled. Plus, he wasn’t the kind of guy to follow all the rules.

He’d told me stories over wine about the lines he’d crossed over the years when things had been entirely different within police departments. He might be able to gather whispers from the past. He certainly was gruff enough he’d know how to rattle chains.

It was a longshot given the murder had been so long ago, but finding anything might prove to be helpful at this point.

I’d even bugged Elio, but he hadn’t answered his phone. It would seem I’d hit a hot button. I was considering a visit. Loose ends weren’t good for business. And the cargo ship was still rolling into the port.

Now it all seemed a sit and wait to see which players came forward. I wasn’t the kind of guy to stand by the sidelines. At least rousing Gio would help improve my mood.

Or so I hoped.

Business meetings were typically boring in my world. The Marciano corporation was a private company, which meant my mother, brother, sister, and an attorney I’d known since college were on our board of directors, but our meetings were semi-annually and usually weren’t contentious. Our business plan had been laid out together, certain aspects altered as times changed and our business expanded, but for the most part the corporation had run smoothly.

Granted, a couple of projects we’d acquired over the last two years had placed us into entirely new territory with being forced to have already existing investors. The initial meetings after our takeover had definitely been lively. Shouting and even tomato throwing had been involved.

I’d left those meetings thoroughly energized, eager to strip apart and remold the companies. Isabella had literally flown across the table in the middle of one, wrapping her hands around one of the investors’ throats. I’d had the most fun I’d experienced in a long time.

Today’s meeting was meant to be low-key as well. I’d decided the best thing to do was to plant seeds and watch them grow. That didn’t mean I wasn’t planning on having a little fun, but as Gio entered the smaller conference room of our office, he was still flirting with the receptionist. He even touched her face, pushing an imaginary strand of hair away from her cheek, his words that she was the most beautiful woman in the world making her cringe.

Gio wasn’t exactly a man I’d consider to be good looking on any level, merely average. He tried to make up for it by acting suave but failed miserably.

Maybe I was just in a piss-poor mood and nothing more.