Page 4 of Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines 2)

It was easier.

And then Calisto sobered up.

Affonso and Emma came back.

Life moved on.

Somewhat.

Calisto stayed away as much as possible. Insertinghimself into Emma’s daily life felt like a cruel joke to him and her both. Areminder of the things they had done, and the lies they told to keep it asecret. The less time they spent together, the better.

Dio knew Calisto didn’t need to get himselfanymore wrapped up in Emma than he already had been. Once, was all he needed.

Or it was supposed to be.

As long as he kept a distance, Calisto wouldn’t findhimself failing again.

Surely, that was enough.

Every second Tuesday of each month was reserved for aduty that Calisto had no possible way of getting out of. Tribute was a Don’sGod-given right in Cosa Nostra. There were no questions to be asked aboutpaying the boss, his men simply tallied the Don’s seventy percent out of theircash for the previous two weeks, slapped it into an envelope, and delivered itinto a waiting hand.

Calisto’s ritual was the same on every other Tuesday.He got up before eight, dressed in a suit, stopped at a café right down theblock from his apartment, and then had his driver make the thirty minute tripto a Hilton hotel across the city just before noon. Being even a little bitlate was unacceptable.

There were a few things in life that Affonso hatedmost of all. Losing money, people who questioned him, loose ends, and men whomade him wait. Unless someone had more power behind their name than Affonsodid, he waited on no one.

Being Affonso’s nephew didn’t afford Calisto muchleeway where la famiglia was concerned. In front of his uncle’s men,Calisto offered the respect that was due to Affonso, but not much else. It waswhen they were alone that he rallied against Affonso’s demands, and voiced hisopinions louder than his uncle wanted him to.

Behind closed doors, there was no made man, no nephewto the boss, and no consigliere doing his uncle’s bidding.

There was just Calisto.

“Five minutes,” Tiny said in the front seat.

Calisto grunted his thanks through a sip of hot coffee.His enforcer drummed a beat on the steering wheel in time with the music fromthe radio.

“You’re awfully active this morning,” Calisto noted.

“It’s a good day, boss.” Tiny shot him with a widegrin and added, “And you know, I took a ragazza home last night. Then Isent her on her way this morning with a pat on the ass and a promise for more.Makes a man happy to spend his night with a beautiful woman.”

Calisto chuckled. “One of these days, you’ll find oneof those women knocking on your door with a baby in hand, Tiny. You’re tooloose with your nonsense.”

“I wrap it up.”

“Sure, sure.”

Tiny had acted as Calisto’s driver and enforcer for aslong as he had taken up the spot as Affonso’s consigliere in the Donati crimefamily. The man got his nickname for the tiny knife he kept hidden in his pantspocket that only came out when he needed it for something. Tiny didn’t use gunsto protect Calisto, he used his fists and a knife.

The guy’s name didn’t exactly fit him well. Tinytowered over Calisto by four inches, making the man a good six-foot, sixinches. He also packed a good one-hundred pounds of beefed up muscle toCalisto’s lean, toned one-eighty. Despite his size, and his mean ass demeanor,Tiny was quick on his feet, and his sharp blue eyes were capable of findingdanger in even the calmest of situations.

Calisto trusted Tiny.

That was the important thing.

In a world where Calisto was considered a target forhis last name and position in Cosa Nostra, he knew that Tiny had his back. Thatwas saying a lot.

“Here we are,” Tiny said as the car pulled into thecircular paved entrance of the Hilton.

“Wonderful,” Calisto muttered dryly.