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“Uh huh. What if the computers are encrypted? Which, I promise you, they are. Do you really think your uncle is going to just give you the codes and let you walk in there? Come on, Roman. Be serious,” Luca said.
“I am being serious,” Roman promised him. He leaned down, getting in his face. “You are seriously not going.”
Instead of getting mad, Luca’s face softened. He patted Roman on the chest. “You don’t need to protect me from them anymore.”
“Yes, I do. Of course I do!” Roman snapped. “You’re not going. And that’s final.”
“Babe, listen to your brother,” Sal bade Luca. “This is the place you were taken from when you were a newborn. This is where you were sold from.”
“I’m well aware of that. I’m also well aware that Godfrey has managed to keep his human trafficking empire going for decades without detection. He hurt Angel. He knows Angel is here. She saved my life,” Luca reminded them. “I’m going.”
“If you’re going, I’m going too,” Sal said. “And so is an entire mercenary team.”
“And me,” Abel said grimly.
Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, his temples beginning to throb. “You can’t all come. Who will protect Angel while I’m gone? And I can’t take a fucking army to New York. I’m already breaching the truce by entering the city as it is.”
“Then think of another option,” Salvatore instructed, pulling a willing Luca into his arms.
He couldn’t. There were a few more names on the list from Colt, but Roman was no longer hopeful they would yield results. The vaults were his only hope. When he’d first left, he had plans to burn the mansion to the ground—the vaults and all. But that would have been personal, based on emotions, and wasn’t the best business decision to make. So, he used the powerful records to broker a truce with his uncle, and they were under his control—not Roman’s, even though they rightfully should have been. A fact that hadn’t bothered him once in almost twenty years. But now, it was just one more thing to regret.
“There is no other option,” Roman finally responded. “I’m going to New York. And I’m going alone.”
CHAPTER NINE
“Is everything okay? I don’t want to pry, but I’ve noticed you’re, well, being followed by some angry-looking men lately.”
Angela turned, her lips twitching when she took in the tall tattooed mountains of muscle Roman had ordered to be her personal bodyguards. Sal was in charge of the bodyguard business in the Omertà complex and was more familiar with the men and women under his direct employ. But Roman had the final say based on Sal’s suggestions and the people he had worked with before. Angela vetoed one of the men because he looked at her breasts instead of her face. Sal had punched the man in the face before firing him. She felt kind of bad.
It was day seven of having two bodyguards with her at all times. As well as being chauffeured everywhere. It wasn’t an ideal situation, especially because the bodyguards didn’t exactly blend, but it was a compromise. One she was happy to agree to if it meant her world could return to a semblance of normal. She needed normal. She had cleared it with the director of the hospital and the chief of surgery. It helped that Roman had made a significant donation to the new cancer ward.
“Unfortunately, I’m struggling with some personal safety issues. These men are here for my protection,” she replied honestly and bluntly.
“What? Holy shit, Angela!” Finn exclaimed.
His reaction made her laugh. He scowled at her, which made her laugh more. Finn’s personality was perpetually sunny. Now that she wasn’t holding herself back, she realized Finn was her friend and had been for a long time. She was so used to keeping people at a distance and determined to do everything her way and independently that she hadn’t noticed Finn was more than a friendly work colleague before she admitted her feelings for Roman. Opening up to her mafia man had opened her up to her other relationships as well. It was a wonderful and unexpected side benefit.
“Your safety is not a laughing matter, Angela,” he scolded her, dropping her title.
“That’s right, it’s not.” Morrigan’s voice sounded snide, and Angela turned to find her glaring with her arms crossed. “I was on transport duty this morning. Why did Sterling drive you?”
“Sorry. There was an emergency, and I got called in,” Angela explained.
“What does that have to do with Sterling driving you?” Morrigan demanded rudely.
Angela looked at the hulking bodyguard with the dozens of piercings and tattoos. He had muscles for days and looked about as friendly as a serial killer. Which he had once been charged with and let off on a technicality for. But he was currently doing his best to blend into the eggshell-colored wall of the hospital. Nobody wanted to be on Morrigan’s bad side. Angela smiled at him, telling him with her eyes to remain silent. Roman would be pissed if Morrigan bloodied Sterling and he was out of commission.
“It was early, Morrigan,” Angela said. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You bother me just by breathing, as all people do,” Morrigan pointed out. She walked closer and shoved Angela’s shoulder. To her, it was no doubt considered a love tap. “But because I’m trying to keep you breathing, you don’t change the plans. Ever.”
Angela held up her hands in front of her. “Okay. I got it. Don’t leave Morrigan behind.”
Morrigan narrowed her eyes. “Ever.”
“Right. Ever.” Angela nodded her head, maintaining a straight face. “Do you want me to pinky swear?”
Morrigan finally smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. “I dare you to hold your pinky finger out to me.”
