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After the Salvatores sold Nicola, they moved to Cinisi—a metro city on the edge of Palermo—and I intend to decimate their new lives as disastrously as they have Nicola’s. But not until I have Chief Santini running for the hills. His little villa in Mondella won’t keep him safe.
“You sure about this?” Santi asks as he and Maso stand next to me in front of thePolizia Di Stato Commissariato Palermo Oretoheadquarters. All four of my brothers have been questioning my sanity since I left a career I was so passionate about. I haven’t regretted it once, however. In fact, it was the first time I felt like I took a step towards my destiny.
“Positive. Catch the bastard off guard where he feels most comfortable.” Despite our familial ties, we’ve all taken career paths that have led us to make the world a better place.
Me, in the police force, then on to protecting the Morello family. Santi is serving in the army, though I suspect he isn’t reenlisting. Maso and Donato are private investigators and take on jobs the police deny or can’t help with. And Pace, I’m pretty sure is a mercenary, but he won’t confirm or deny the inquiry.
“This could ultimately bite you in the ass, man,” Maso mutters as we walk into the heavily guarded building. Armed with only a file of information Santi found in his searches, Maso also carries a few listening devices so we can monitor any conversations the chief has.
“Not worried about it,” I reply as we’re stopped in the foyer of the building and wait to go through the metal detectors.
“Who are you here to see?” a guard asks as we sign in.
“Chief Santini.” He slowly looks up at me.
“You have an appointment?” Pursing my lips, I shake my head no. He smirks. “Then you don’t see the chief. Appointment only. Make one; come back then.”
“No.” He drops the clipboard and steps forward, likely believing he can intimidate me. “I’ll see him now. Let him know it’s Domino Cardarelli.”
His brows raise. “American,” he spits out. “Think you run everything.” Lifting a phone to his ear, he bites out a few words before slamming the receiver down.
“You’ve pissed him off now,” Santi laughs.
“This way,” the guard barks, glaring at us.
Following quietly along, I can almost appreciate the security here if it weren’t for the fact that I know a lot of these cops are dirty and wouldn’t hesitate to hurt or even kill Nicola at the chief's command.
“Mr. Cardarelli,” Santini greets with a shit-eating grin on his pompous face. “Please come in.” He waves his hand towards his office. We do as requested but watch as he conveys orders to the guard, probably to get more men up here to haul us out. “How can I help you?” His voice remains jovial until the door closes, then he seethes, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Maso makes himself comfortable and sits in the oversized leather chair behind the desk, placing his feet on top and covertly planting one of the listening devices. Santi remains standing by the door, ready for anyone who enters.
“How important is your image, Chief Santini?” I ask, pulling out the folder from my jacket pocket.
“Excuse me?” He’s flustered.Good.
“Your public image. The one the media, citizens, maybe your wife and daughter see on a daily basis. How important is it?” Leaning against his desk, I cross my arms, giving the impression I’m relaxed and not a threat. When inside, I’d like nothing more than to rip him apart, limb from fucking limb.
“It’s not an image, as you say. It’s who I am. I cleaned up the streets of Palermo. Got rid of the riff-raff.” His eyes bore into me with accusation.
“Did you, though? What about Vincenzo Salvatore. Surely he’s considered riff-raff?” The man’s got a good poker face, I’ll give him that. But I catch the surprise in his eyes.
“What about him?” His tone is cautious now.
Holding out the folder for him, I wait until he gives it a cursory glance. “What is this?”
“Proof,” Santi barks.
“Of what?” Santini looks between us.
“Of your knowledge that your cousin sells children after he slaughters their families.” I take no satisfaction in the words I speak, but I enjoy the way the chief pales.
* * *
Nicola
I keep my head down,bite my tongue, and remain as low-key as possible all day. Ignoring the stares, the whispers, nasty rumors, as lies are spread is the most challenging thing I’ve ever done in my life. I’d like nothing more than to knock some of these girls’ teeth down their throats.
Except I made a promise to Domino to keep my cool. To remain as unobtrusive as possible and just finish this last month of school.
