AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sending Luka on a job?” Alina asked from behind them.
Luka pushed off the wall, moving to her side and gently taking her hand.
Alina’s eyes narrowed on Antonio, but she didn’t complain like he thought she would. She squeezed Luka’s gloved hand. “Should I head home alone?”
“We’re done,” Antonio offered, leaning back against the wall where the assassin had been. His hand reached for his inner pocket, fiddling with the vape pen but not bringing it out despite his craving for it.
Luka was already turning with Alina, as if he hadn’t needed permission. He hadn’t, but there’d been a time he would have hesitated. Antonio was starting to respect him the more he worked with him. He forced his hand out of his jacket, running it over his hair as Luka looked back.
“Office,” he mumbled before leading Alina away.
Antonio’s brows drew together, and he made his way to the office Giovanni and Nera shared. Sure enough, the window was standing open, the screen gone. Another breach in security he needed to patch up.
He moved over to the window, withdrawing his vape pen. The first drag of the grape-flavored nicotine made his heart race more than it settled him. He could hear his mother’s voice in his mind, telling him he wasn’t good enough.
Disintegrating her body after she was dead hadn’t erased everything.
He peered out the window and glanced down at the ground below. Luka was a damned cockroach if he had scaled this wall. The offices and conference rooms were on the third floor.
Antonio had asked the assassin to tell him about holes in the family’s security, but this was ridiculous. Was the kid even human? Although, he wasn’t a kid anymore. Antonio remembered how Luka had carved up Giovanni when he was barely a teenager. He’d always been lethal.
“I can’t believe you’re still smoking that thing,” Enzo said from behind him.
Antonio stiffened. Enzo knew exactly why he’d developed the habit. His uncle remembered the grape cigars. He’d been the only one to realize Antonio’s mother had often burned his chest with them, but only because he’d come across Antonio continuing the ritual after she was gone.
Killing your mother at thirteen could fuck with your head. Now he had a tattoo of her favorite flower masking the scars.
He pulled the grape-flavored nicotine into his lungs, letting it settle him in a way that would never make sense. Both the flavor and the tattoo on his chest were remnants of his past he held on to tightly. It was best not to forget.
Enzo moved to stand before the window as well, folding his inked arms over his chest and letting out a shiver. “A bit cold, isn’t it?” His gaze flicked to him. “You feeling better than the other day?”
Antonio slid the vape pen back into his pocket. “Why wouldn’t I? Or did the example I made of our soldier not work? Do we have more to deal with?”
“You’d usually know before me.” Enzo leaned his shoulder against the open window shutter. “You’ve been away a night or two lately.”
He wondered if his uncle already knew about him hooking up with Vespa. “Blowing off some steam. I’ll take over tonight.” They took turns keeping watch on Giovanni and Nera while they slept. Tommaso kept an eye on things during the day.
“What do you know about Leandro Barone?” he asked. He would be able to mentally work through the best action to take with Barone while he was on guard duty tonight, and he needed intel to do so.
“I take it the meeting didn’t go well?” Enzo frowned as he considered. “The man has nerves of steel and a solid head for business. Lost his wife a while back, and he has a grown daughter.”
“No son?” Antonio asked. It wasn’t a guarantee that the heir would be chosen, but most Mafia bosses still had one and a spare. His lips ached as he let the smile spread. Just like him and Giovanni, though Giovanni had often been treated as less than a spare.
“Had a son, but they had a falling-out or something. Tried to make his own way and ran into trouble, though I don’t remember what happened. That was around the time…” He swallowed as he squinted out the window again.
Enzo wore the expression he always did when he thought of Inessa, Giovanni’s mother. That meant Barone’s son had been killed years ago, around the time that Inessa had been executed.
Antonio filed the knowledge away. Information tended to weave together in unexpected ways.
“Isn’t it Lucchese we’re watching?” Enzo asked.
Antonio reached for the window shutter. Enzo was right. It was still cold despite the days rolling toward spring. “You know me,” was all he said.
“Yeah, I do.” Enzo helped him close up before turning. “You’re a suspicious and cynical bastard.”
Antonio’s smile felt less brittle. “With reason.”
Enzo shook his head, though not in denial. “I wish I’d been able to save you from some of that.”
