Page 35 of Dishonored

“And what is our next move?” Jonny asked. “How do we go at them from here?”

“Yes, a plan is needed,” Simone agreed.

Nico looked to Aria for direction, but it was the ringing of her phone that stopped her from speaking to the gathered men so that they could discuss the failed meeting with the Accardo boss. She didn’t even need to look at the screen to know who was calling her.

She had been waiting for this.

“Raffe,” she greeted, not unkindly, as she picked up her husband’s call.

“Skype, now,” he snarled.

No one at the table could hear the way he spoke to her, and she didn’t give the waiting men any indication how unsettled she felt, either. “Two minutes, okay.”

“One, Aria, or I will be on a goddamn flight tonight.”

“One, then.”

She hung up the call, but only after Raffe did. Hanging up on him would do her no good when she did finally get on Skype. Standing from the table, she offered nothing to the confused men but for a quiet, “Excuse me, but I need a few minutes.”

Or however long he wants.

It took Aria almost the entire minute just to get to the privacy of her bedroom, and to close the door. The Skype call from her husband was already ringing through. The bastard couldn’t even give her the one minute she asked for.

Aria answered the call by hitting the accept button, and sat down on the edge of her bed. She forced her face to remain a blank mask of nothingness even as her husband’s angry, scowling face came into view on the video call.

Raffe Ferri was six foot, five inches, and two-hundred-fifty pounds of anger. Handsome, sure, with his olive complexion, boyish grin, and dark, wavy hair. He could dazzle a woman with one of his wide, white-toothed smiles, and just as quickly terrify her with a harsh hand. He was demanding, and difficult, and hateful.

And he was her husband.

“You ignored my calls today,” he said.

Aria nodded. “I was doing business.”

“For what—what that you couldn’t speak to me?”

Behind him, the Four Seasons hotel room looked as though a tornado had ripped through it. Likely him tearing things apart in his rage. It wasn’t uncommon, and frankly, she was just grateful that he was on an entirely different continent from her. There was less casualty to her that way.

Small blessings.

“The Accardo family, actually,” Aria said. “We are still trying to gain more coverage in our territory. You wanted that.”

Raffe’s sneer lifted a bit, but not by much. “And how did it go?”

“Pretty well, all things considered.”

He would have considered today to be a step forward even with the way it ended. She wasn’t entirely lying to him.

“I could always cut this deal with the Cambria—”

“We really need that contact, Raffe,” Aria said softly, “as our deal with the Mexican cartel fell through, and our supply is low.”

Because she fucked up the contact with the Mexicans. Not that Raffe knew that. Either way, she was running on a short timeline, and had needed to get him the hell out of Philly at least while her father was still in prison, so she could get this plan of hers to move forward. Sometimes, things just worked.

“I know that,” her husband muttered darkly.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

Raffe softened a bit at her apology. “How are you—missing me?”