Page 42 of Single Malt Drama
Once again, he checked me out. “Pete. Pete Cole.”
“Your ex-wife is mixed up with some very…” I glanced at the kid and chose my words carefully. “…interesting people. They won’t be happy if she stops doing business with them.”
He ran his hand over his mouth and chin. “I told her not to get mixed up with the Marchionnis when she took that damned job. What does she do? She starts sleeping with pretty boy there—”
“That’s enough.” Marco ground his teeth.
Tara was Marco’s lover? Is that why he’s so worried about her children? I’d asked him outright how he knew the waitress, and he’d lied to me.
I don’t know what Pete saw in my expression, but he shook his head. “Do you know what you’re getting into with the Marchionnis? Word is they’re M-A-F-I-A.”
Most people in Sicily spoke of the Cosa Nostra in whispers, and yes, some treated us with disdain, but I’d never heard someone spell it out as if it were a curse word. I had no idea how to respond.
Marco said, “Keep talking, and I’ll show you how real those rumors are.”
Pete went pale, turned his head, and stared out the window.
We spent the remainder of the trip in silence. Even the baby seemed afraid to utter a peep after the way Marco had threatened his father.
Stuart parked in the driveway of the carriage house adjacent to the mansion and checked his cell phone. “You’re needed inside, Mr. Marchionni. We’ll take them inside and get them settled.”
Without as much as a glance my way, Marco exited the SUV.
“After you.” Pete motioned for me to go. His voice had softened, but the hatred in his eyes seemed to grow with each passing second.
“Go ahead.” I had questions, but I wasn’t ready to face Marco. It wasn’t any of my business who he’d slept with. That he’d lied hurt more than the truth ever could have.
Pete and Drew climbed out and stood staring at the manicured grounds and house.
“Nico?” Marco held his hand out to me.
Rather than showing weakness in front of strangers, I took it, but I let go the second my feet were on the ground. “I’ll help get Pete and the kids settled.”
“Enzo needs us inside.”
I forced a smile and settled Sammy on my hip. “I’ll be in in a few minutes.”
He gave me an odd look and strode inside.
Stuart nodded to a side door of the carriage house. “This way.”
We followed him into what looked like a war room. Computer monitors covered two long built in desks. Different angles of the interior and exterior of the main house, as well as the grounds, flashed on the screens. Two men, dressed in the requisite black cargo pants and T-shirts, glanced at us as we passed.
Pete swallowed hard and gripped Drew’s hand tighter.
Upstairs was nothing like the first floor. Cozy couches and a television took up one side of the space, and what I assumed were bedrooms occupied the back half. A small kitchen area separated the two.
Stuart clasped his hands behind his back. “Make yourselves at home. There’s food in the fridge. Use the intercom to call down if you need anything for the little ones.”
Pete glanced around. “Is there a phone? Your friends didn’t give me time to grab my cell.”
“No, sir. You won’t be making any outgoing calls tonight.”
He clenched his jaw.
I stepped between the men. “Stuart, please get some paper and a pen for Mr. Cole. He’s going to need supplies for the baby and kid-friendly food for Drew.”
The little boy grinned when I said his name.