Page 30 of The Forever One
“I know.”
* * *
“Stefano thinks they’re in The City? Could they be that fucking stupid?”
Sitting up against the headboard with River cross legged next me, I cock a brow at her in response. We’re going over the files Stefano prepared, weighing which one seems more plausible than the others as we fill up with some healthy snacks we got from a kitchen run. The problem is, they’re all possible scenarios. And yes, for the record, those two are stupid enough to fly back here.
“Narcissists feel untouchable so if they have something cooking here, they wouldn’t think twice about returning to Manhattan.”
“Right. Does that make us their main course?”
“Well, if that’s the case, I refuse to be anything less than a T-bone steak, but yeah, we’re probably high up on their to-do list.” River rolls her eyes at my simile then grins like a naughty schoolgirl.
“Well, I’m the only one allowed todoyou, so they’re shit out of luck on crossing that item off their list.” My head falls back on the headboard as a sudden laugh escapes me. This fucking woman, I swear to God.
“Okay, let’s get back to work, my little sex fiend.” Yeah, pot meet kettle and all that shit.
“Ugh, can we just pretend they’re dead? I mean, they’re not going to come after us again, right? We’ve got more security than the fucking president and the pope combined.” She lets herself fall back onto the mattress, her arms up above her head and hanging over the edge.
“To be fair,”—I close one file and open another—“the Pope’s Swiss Guard only has about a hundred men.” River hauls herself back up, leaning on her elbows.
“Okay, first of all, Encyclopedia Britannica, that is not the point.” Sitting back, she pauses with her brows pinched and her eyes unfocused. “Second of all, why would the pope’s guards be Swiss?”
Slapping the file on my lap, I turn fully to look at her and grin. I love feeding my wife’s curious mind, it satiates a deep, primal need in me. “Back in the fourteenth century, the Helvetians were considered fearless warriors and loyal to a fault so the pope hired them to protect him.” A very long story short but I’m guessing she’s not here for the history of the Swiss Guard.
“Like mercenaries.” It’s not a question so I just shrug because sure, that’s about right.
“Taking the best men available to protect him while the Italian government protects everything around them.” I look over at her and frown. She’s lost in thought, her eyes darting from one side to the other like she’s figuring out a complex puzzle.
“Yeah, something like that. Are you okay, Tesoro?” At my question, her pupils focus back on me and a Cheshire smile grows at the corners of her lips.
“So, we’re the pope. We’ve got our detail in close ranks here at the house and our capos and soldiers out there in The City. What if we use those soldiers to close ranks and smoke Elizabeth and Ugo out from their hiding places? They can’t possibly know who’s made and who’s not.”
Staring at my wife, I take a quick mental count of the possible men and women out on the streets, think about how many we need working their sectors and how many we can afford to assign to seeking out the siblings.
“I’ll have to talk to Enzo and the capos but yeah, creating circles of protection while pushing out the rats is definitely something we can try.”
River grins at me, a proud glint in her eyes. “Maybe I’ll get this whole mafia thing down one day.”
“You’re perfect, Tesoro.” I wrap my hand around her throat and pull her to me, bruising her mouth with my lips and kissing the breath from her lungs.
“We’ll get through this, right?” I hate the vulnerability in her voice. I want to take it away and bury it under a hundred miles of cement.
“Of course. Which is why I’ve decided to go after the Greeks. They helped Ugo and Elizabeth and they have to pay for the part they played in this whole thing.” By the way her eyes shift from vulnerable to furious in the time it takes a bullet to fly through flesh, I’m guessing she’s not happy about this news. Too bad, it must be done.
“Jesus fuck, Marco. Are you serious? Do we not have enough shit on our plate? Oh, sure, let’s add the fucking Greek mafia war to our agenda. No problem, dude.” She jumps from the bed and begins pacing from side to side, throwing ridiculous threats my way as her arms flail in the air. My gaze follows her trail back and forth, a smirk forming on the corner of my mouth as I think about how perfect this woman is for me, how lucky I am to have realized the importance of her in my life.
“Are you even listening to me? What the fuck, Marco?” She stops pacing, facing me now with her fists planted on her boy-shorts-covered hips.
“I bought a yacht for the fourth of July. I thought it would be nice to have both of our families together for the day and the evening. The fireworks are amazing from the water.” Her frown deepens at my revelation and just when she’s about to rip me a new one for ignoring her previous rant, I interrupt her. Again. “But if you want to stay home and pout, I’ll ask Enzo to keep an eye on you.” I’m taunting her now and by the way her eyes narrow and her jaw tightens, I’m guessing she’s about to explode—and not in the good way. Too fucking bad, I won’t budge on this.
“Marco! Marco!” At my mother’s voice and sudden banging on the door, River and I both freeze, eyes wide and alert, heads snapping toward the bedroom door. Thankfully, we both dressed after taking another shower washing away our time in this little bubble of Heaven we created for ourselves since our return.
“Coming!” I jump out of bed and pull on a pair of sweatpants to hide my semi inside my boxers.
As I pass her, I grab River by the jaw and kiss her hard and fast, our eyes locking, this conversation on the back burner. When I open the door, I find my mother grinning with tears in her eyes.
“They’ve found Nathaniel!”