Page 361 of Marcello

“Oh yes. Unfortunately, Cesare and his thugs seem to have looted any gold or jewelry, but we’ve got a nice pile of Monets and Picassos in the other room. In addition to this,” I said, gesturing to the trash bags filled with cash, “it’ll make a nice little haul.”

“For our troubles,” Dario said wryly.

“For our troubles,” I agreed.

Marcello came downstairs in his old clothes. Laura wore a simple dress.

She’d looked ghastly before, all covered in cobwebs and dirt, but now she was quite pretty – if a bit pale and weak-looking.

Marcello was carrying a suitcase.

“I brought some clothes,” Laura said apologetically. “I hope that’s alright.”

“It’s more than alright,” I assured her. I held out a plate and bottle of water. “I had my men prepare something for you to eat.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully, and began to devour the food.

Minutes later, our foot soldiers started loading up the SUVs with garbage bags of cash.

Marcello took a pair of keys out of his pocket, and a nearby vehicle beeped. “I’m exhausted – could one of your guys drive it to Florence for me?”

“Of course,” I replied.

Laura watched in alarm as our foot soldiers started stacking works of art in the SUVs. “You’re taking my family’s paintings?”

“It’s either that, or the Camorra gets them,” I said. “Don’t worry, we’ll compensate you.”

I refrained from saying, Your father betrayed our location to Cesare, which led to our home being destroyed, so it’s within our rights to keep ALL of them.

I figured the poor girl had been through enough.

“It’s… it’s fine,” she murmured. “I’m just grateful you saved me.”

I smiled at Marcello. “We had quite a bit of help.”

For the first time since we’d met, he smiled back.

Just a ghost of a smile, really…

But considering how we started 24 hours ago, it was massive progress.

We left the Amato compound long before the deadline.

Giorgio drove one of the biggest SUVs, a monster with two back rows of leather seats. Lars rode shotgun while Dario and I sat in the back with Marcello and Laura.

I was insistent that my other brothers split up, just in case. Massimo rode with Lucia, and everyone else got their own vehicle and driver.

We sped down the dark hills of Naples in silence.

Everyone was tense. We waited for an attack…

But none came.

We reached Sotto Napoli and transferred everything – paintings, money, Laura’s suitcase – into our bulletproof Mercedes. A foot soldier continued to drive Marcello’s SUV.

After that, we drove in a caravan out of Naples, making sure to stay within the speed limit so as not to antagonize the police.

Again, we were tense. We watched the streets carefully, expecting cars to come screeching at us like battering rams.