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“You know you are, Bea,” Montrell murmured. “If you hadn’t made sense about Vespa, I wouldn’t have offered to go with you. It’s still an offer. If you tell me not to, I’ll hate it, but I’ll respect it.”
They stared sappily at each other. Vespa wanted to knock their heads together and lock them in a room.
“So this was her idea?” she asked instead, glaring at Montrell’s wife. “And I was just starting to like you.”
Beatrice smiled back, looking way too calm and collected. “I like you, too, Vespa. That’s why I made this decision. The more I think about the warehouse hit—”
“You mean the hit where I took out almost every one of those fuckers? Yeah, I was there. I know all about it. It’s why we’re having this damn meeting with Rossi in the first place, and I should get to read his reaction to our accusations!”
Beatrice’s lips thinned as they pressed together. “I’m consigliere. I’ll read his reaction.”
“Yes! Be in charge! I don’t give a shit about that.” Vespa’s hand lifted to squeeze her bun. “But if there’s danger, then that’s exactly where I’m supposed to be. I can handle it.”
“I can’t,” Montrell said.
She looked toward her best friend. “I thought we were past this,” she muttered. He’d gotten protective a few times over the years. That was just who Montrell was, a person who wanted to shield others. He’d finally accepted that she was the shield—or so she’d thought. “I’m always willing to take the bullet. Let me take it.” Her eyes shifted to Beatrice. “There’s even more reason to now.”
Montrell exchanged looks with Beatrice, like they had a silent language all their own, and Vespa wanted to murder something.
She interrupted whatever they were communicating, since it was obviously against her. “Why are we still talking about this? I said no, so it’s a no. Let’s meet up with Rossi and get this over with.”
Beatrice closed her eyes with a sigh. Her gaze had hardened when they reopened. “I said no, too, Vespa. And Montrell has promised me whatever I want.”
Vespa glared. “Fuck, are you pulling the wife card or something? That’s low.”
Beatrice stepped forward, the slit in her dress showing an impressive amount of thigh. “I talked to everyone that was at the warehouse. Your gut instinct isn’t wrong. I think that hit was all about killing you, Vespa.”
Vespa made a rude sound in her throat. “Like hell. Even if it was, I’m just a way to injure him.” She jutted her chin toward Montrell. “If I’m there with him, I would no longer be the primary target.”
Beatrice nodded. “I’m not so certain you’re right, but fine. Montrell will go with you to the warehouse.”
“No!” Vespa shouted before Montrell could. She gritted her teeth. “The warehouse is too obvious. Everyone knows we moved the shipment. It’s not the most dangerous place to be right now, and no way we’re letting you take that position alone. Besides, it’d kill Montrell to not be beside you when shit goes down. Just like it’d be hell for me.”
“Beatrice can handle herself, Vespa,” Montrell said, but he had that kicked-puppy look. “Just like you can. And I can.”
“We’re stronger together,” Vespa argued. That was the crux of it. If there was danger, it would make her crazy not to be near them.
Beatrice’s fingers twitched at the end of her cast. “The Irish proved otherwise. It’s stupid to put all three of us in danger at once again.”
“The meeting is at the restaurant. No way someone’s drugging us there.” Vespa scowled as she remembered knocking back her drink without a worry. She’d been a fucking idiot, and in front of his mother, but his mother was dead. Something inside her settled at the reminder this time.
“The restaurant is under our control,” Beatrice agreed. “Having the meeting there is the safest bet.” Her eyes narrowed on Vespa. “It’s your position that’s most dangerous, wherever that is. The warehouse might be obvious, but if they are going after you, it’ll be a lure. Don’t you understand, Vespa? You’re not being left out or protected. You’re the bait.”
Vespa’s eyebrow lifted as she studied the other woman. “You want them to attack me?”
“It’ll solidify my suspicions. Our only injured men in the warehouse hit were those nearest to you.” Beatrice’s gaze was intent. “Any new thoughts on why someone might target you?”
Vespa shrugged. “People don’t like me.”
Beatrice’s smile returned. “I like you just fine.”
“That’s because you have to. You love this one.” Vespa nodded toward Montrell before crossing her arms. “I still don’t like this. The crews will be spread thin, covering the restaurant and the warehouse.”
“Our boys can handle it,” Montrell said. “And I’ve asked the Di Salvos to be on standby in case we need backup.”
“The Di Salvos already know about this plan?” Vespa scowled. “Am I the last to be told?”
“I warned Beatrice you’d balk,” Montrell said with a shrug.
