Page 24 of Dario

12

Dario

Alessandro was really quiet when they both came out of the bathroom. Perhaps inviting Terry to lunch had been a mistake, but I’d hoped the two might become friends, and my explanation about Alvize being unable to work seven days a week was true.

Liar.I just wanted someone I trusted watching over Alessandro. I needed someone to keep their ear to the ground about Alvize. I hadn’t been joking when I told him he was dead if he fucked up.

I also couldn’t let the debacle at the wedding ever happen again. If it looked like I couldn’t protect what was mine, I would lose all respect. One of the five families would likely try and beat Rocco to the punch by putting a bullet through my skull. It would only take a small show of weakness and it would be a bloodbath, with or without the Irish.

And if anyone so much as glanced at Alessandro the wrong way, I would end them. I also tried to convince myself that was for appearances.

Of course it was.

I really wanted to accompany Alessandro when he got to see where we’d be living, but Hugo had been on ice long enough, and I had work to do. I’d already spoken to Rocco and let him think everyone was dead and that the only loose end was the possible second gunman from the parking garage. At least that incident explained sufficiently why we had married at the courthouse and given him a bone to chew on. The man’s acting skills were appalling. I had heard the relief in his voice when he thought Hugo wasn’t alive to spill secrets.

Alvize took Alessandro home. He thanked me politely for a lunch he’d barely eaten, and obediently let Terry escort him to his waiting car. The mayor’s dinner was in three days and I would probably need Terry then to accompany Alessandro, but I determinedly put everything out of my mind as Lucio escorted me out of the restaurant and into the waiting car.

We drove silently to the warehouse, my preferred location for interviewing people that likely wouldn’t survive the questions. The top three floors were one of those storage rental places, a perfect excuse for odd cars and vans turning up at all hours. The basement was mine, complete with a private underground entrance.

A hidden private entrance.

I watched Hugo from the door. He’d been treated until his wounds weren’t life-threatening for two reasons. I needed him alive to answer questions, and I wasn’t about to let a bullet end someone I fully intended to kill myself. A bullet didn’t provide the same level of satisfaction.

He was tied up but far too comfortable when I arrived. Within moments he was chained high, his toes barely scraping the floor. I knew what that pain felt like on your shoulders, but the missing fingers would make it hurt doubly so.

“Hugo, I’m sure you understand why I need to talk to you.” I picked up one of the blades Lucio had very thoughtfully laid out for me. Toying with it. Holding it up to the light. Examining its length.

“B-boss,” he stuttered, sweat beading on his lip.

“Why did you try to kidnap my husband?”

His flash of guilt quickly masked was hardly an Oscar-worthy performance. Really, he and Rocco were a pair. “Boss? I was following orders.” He muttered the words. He knew I wouldn’t accept a non-answer. To be honest, he was beginning to realize his life was forfeit. It was, but I could go easy or make it last for a very long time.

I nodded as though that was reasonable. “Remind me when I gave that instruction then?” Taking the knife and stripping his clothes, ignoring the gasps and squirms, I left his boxers until last. His flaccid dick hung just like he did. I looked at him. Even strung up as he was, I was still taller. “Because you have worked for my family a long time, I will give you one more chance. Every refusal after that and you lose a body part. I lifted his fleshy, wrinkled cock up with the flat of my blade. He whimpered. I ignored the dribble of urine but bent and wiped the knife on his ripped clothes.

“When did I give you that order?”

He coughed, panic etched on his features, and he started shaking, more piss trickling out of him. “Boss, Don Martino did. He said he was a traitor for...” He gasped in apparent pain even though I hadn’t touched him. “Sokolov. Rocco, you...” His eyes bulged, face suddenly turning scarlet, and I lunged forward. The man was having a fucking heart attack. Lucio flashed his knife and cut the ties and I caught him.

Hugo’s face twisted and he tried to draw in a breath.

“I what?” I demanded but he shook his head, clawing futilely at his neck, his breathing non-existent. Fuck. Two minutes laterdespite our efforts he died. We could hardly call 911. Lucio straightened up from Hugo’s body.

“Sokolov,” I nearly spat the name. The head of the bratva was notorious, and very much involved with Rocco. Rocco always insisted on keeping your enemies closer.

“Alessandro was a traitor?” Lucio scoffed. “Who for?”

“And the only people to ask what the fuck is going on are dead,” I ground out. Of course, he wasn’t a fucking traitor. “And why would Hugo believe Rocco?”

“Why wouldn’t he, boss?” Lucio pointed out. “He’s third generation working for this family and loyalty is in his DNA, even though we both know he wasn’t the brightest. Up until yesterday you trusted a lot of people. You haven’t even had time to appoint your capos, or un-appoint the ones we discussed. Hugo wouldn’t have known any of that. He’s used to obeying Rocco and at that point he still was technically the Don.”

“Fuck,” I swore and rammed my fist into the bare sheetrock wall, exulting in the pain. I should have followed this up immediately instead of taking my new husband out for lunch. Instead of fucking him. What had I been thinking? He was a means to an end. I didn’t need to woo him. I shouldn’t care whether he had friends. This was all my fault. Three generations of Hugo’s family had worked for mine. That should be worth more than a pair of tempting brown eyes and lips to die for. But this time it was fury that burned through me, not lust.

“There’s another reason as well,” Lucio said.

I dragged a hand over my face. “I can’t wait.”

“Hugo was one of Sofia’s drivers. For years. What if she turned on the waterworks? He had daughters of his own. I can see him being persuaded to the cause, falling for her tears.”