Page 110 of Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines 2)

Goddammit.

Calisto’s brow furrowed as he took in the scene on themonitors, still trying to find the men again. The more he searched, the worsehis anger grew until it festered like poison in his gut.

“There they are,” his man said.

Calisto’s gaze cut to where his man was pointing. Onthe top row of monitors, the third one to the right, he found the men.

Leaving the club.

Smiles on their faces.

Nothing had happened.

Fucking mole hill, Calisto thought.

It still didn’t feel right.

His walkie-talkie beeped.

It was a new voice this time.

“Arthur just called, the boss is in his car andthey’re gone,” Ray said.

Calisto grabbed his own walkie-talkie and pressed thebutton on the side to reply. “Thanks, Ray.”

His uncle’s underboss came back right away. “Theystill inside?”

“We’re keeping an eye on things,” Calisto said,instead of giving the truth.

“All right. Have a good night. You know where to callif you need something.”

Calisto tossed the walkie-talkie down withoutresponding. His aggravation levels spiked all over again. But his worry waseven worse.

Instinct was the best thing a man had to work with inthe mafia world. If his gut told him that something wasn’t right about asituation, he needed to listen or he would find himself dead somewhere in amakeshift grave.

Too many people ignored their instincts.

Calisto wasn’t one of them.

He looked over the swarm of people on the monitors,wondering if he had missed something.

Someone else, maybe.

There was nothing.

“Strange,” his man said beside him.

“Yeah,” Calisto agreed.

“They almost seemed like …”

“What?”

“Bait, Cal. Like they wanted us to watch them and notsomebody else. I mean, why else would they do nothing if they meant to causetrouble of some sort?”

Calisto’s stomach dropped.

Were the Irish sending yet another message to Affonso?Was it meant to be a message that would hit a little closer to home?