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Any conversation happening around her became buzzing murmurs that thrummed in her head. She tried to keep her eyes open as panic curled above the fog inside her.
The O’Connells had drugged them. The O’Connells were going to hurt Montrell.
Her fingers dug into the carpet, trying to hold on, but it whirled up and smacked her right in the face, causing the thrumming voices to fade.
Chapter 15
After the Barones finished their pat-down, Antonio settled into the settee to wait. He’d been surprised Leandro had immediately agreed to a meeting, but he’d been curious too. The man was a challenge to read or bait over the phone.
The Barones’ estate was a step up from the Di Salvos’, which Antonio didn’t really mind, but he also understood the status of wealth. His father, Giovanni Sr., had never cared about that, which had annoyed his uncle Vittore over the years.
Antonio disliked thinking about Vittore. The way his uncle had approached business had led Antonio to admire him. He’d strove to emulate him and had learned a lot at his side. It nearly broke him when it became apparent Vittore was the one who had targeted Nera.
Antonio would never hurt Nera or Giovanni, but what did it say about him that he’d felt most similar to someone in the family who not only would but had?
The opening of the sitting room door interrupted his thoughts, and he stood with his normal, easy expression to greet Leandro Barone.
The returning smile and handshake made him realize all over again that Barone also reminded him of himself. Antonio even recognized his tailor from the cut of his suit.
“I didn’t anticipate you having time for me so soon,” Barone said, waving him to sit again as he crossed to the bar. “Scotch?”
“Yes,” Antonio said, understanding the necessary prop. He sat, his hand over the back of the settee as he studied Barone. “And I could say the same. Your availability was also a surprise.”
Leandro acknowledged the words with a widening smile before he turned to pour. Leandro Barone was one of the most good-looking men Antonio had encountered, even for being so much older. His suit was snug over firm arms, his facial hair was sculpted, his salt-and-pepper hair was still thick. He had stunning blue eyes, lighter than the Di Salvos’ blue.
Antonio was considered handsome, but attention wouldn’t pass over Leandro to him if they were standing next to each other. Some might even prefer the more seasoned offering.
Daddy kink had never been part of Antonio’s submission preference, but he could see the appeal when faced with a man like Barone.
He took the glass Leandro offered, sipping at his scotch as he tried to read his host.
Leandro Barone swirled his glass instead of sipping. “Are you hoping I’ll guess the reason you reached out?”
Antonio shook his head. “Not at all. Honestly, my interest in meeting stems from your own interest in the Coronellas.” He downed the scotch, liking the burn. “Why not the Di Salvos? We were the ones who put that little gathering together yesterday.”
Leandro relaxed into the armchair he’d chosen. “You noticed my interest in the Coronellas?”
Antonio lowered the glass to rest on his thigh. “You were subtle but fairly obvious, if you know what to look for.”
“I suppose I was.” Barone smoothed a wrinkle in his pant leg. “The Coronellas have a reputation. One that seems to be changing.”
Antonio raised an eyebrow. It had been Vespa Leandro stared at the most, and she hadn’t changed at all. “I missed what you’re referring to. Enlighten me.”
“Are you saying that the Di Salvos aren’t concerned?”
“We aren’t at odds with the Coronellas,” Antonio said. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”
“So you’re content to ignore their consolidation of power?” Barone downed his own scotch. “They took a piece of the Bratva, as we all did, but now they’ve secured most of the Albanian routes as well.”
“The Di Salvos were aware of their move on the Albanians before it went down.” Antonio kept his smile as Leandro’s eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised you weren’t.”
“I didn’t say that.” Barone didn’t allow himself to scowl. His smile flashed even as his fingers whitened on his glass. “Vespa Mortali was instrumental in the hits on the Albanians. Her actions have been impressive.”
“If you say so.” Antonio’s attention focused on the slight curl of the man’s lip. While Leandro was impressed, as he should have been, he was also disgusted. That didn’t mean much. The older generation of La Cosa Nostra were pricks when it came to women.
Vespa really was impressive, though. The hits she led were decisive and thorough. He’d gotten the reports of the way she’d destroyed the last Albanian stragglers that morning.
“I’d heard she could take down a good dozen or so on her own, that she had proved it over some inner turmoil or some such, but I hadn’t quite believed it until now.”
