Chapter 18

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

Saverio

T he nightclub is on the top three floors of the skyscraper hotel that Luigi owns. Dante is already there when I walk from the elevator. He sits at the bar, chatting to a waitress. Or I should say he's chatting her up. From the smile on her face, he's succeeding. He's a natural charmer with the looks to smooth his way. Women swoon over his golden hair and smoldering dark eyes—their words. He's a smooth talker, but he's loyal to boot. If I were to have a second-in-command, it would've been him.

He looks up when he notices me and flashes me a toothy grin. The waitress steals a glance in my direction, and then her radiant smile slips.

Yeah.

I have a reputation, and it's not a good one.

Dante wraps his fingers around her wrist and pulls her down to whisper in her ear. She straightens, nods, and then she's off.

I slide onto the bar stool next to him. "Fucking the staff is off limits. You better not let Luigi catch you with one of the waitresses."

He turns sideways on his seat and props a fist on his hip, flicking his jacket aside. "I categorically state that I'm innocent. I was just catching up on what went down last night." His smile is playful, but the look in his eyes is deadly. Despite his easy-going attitude, there's a permanent undercurrent of danger to him. "Raphael was here. Came with a party of his friends. Apparently, they dished out money as if it was going out of fashion, tipping the waitresses with hundred-dollar bills."

My smile is flat. "I'm aware."

There's not much that happens here or anywhere in the city I don't know. Being well informed is a vital part of survival.

"Did Luigi invite him?" he asks.

"No."

"He's not married to Elena yet, and he's already throwing his weight around as if he owns the place."

I don't reply. I have my reservations about Raphael. He's a sly, greedy motherfucker. Roughly my age, he's been running their business alongside his father since he learned to walk and talk. Michele Morelli raised his son to be a tough underboss and a cruel son of a bitch. They've been gaining territory in the city by exterminating the smaller organizations like a swarm of locusts guzzling everything in their way. They have no honor and no respect, not even for their own kind.

Tying the two families in blood is a mistake. Luigi knows my objections. Yet he believes the alliance will be beneficial in lining our pockets and keeping the peace. If we're not careful, this deal is going to come back and bite us in the ass.

Dante studies me with a perceptive gaze. He's quick to read me. He knows me well. "Want me to keep an eye on him?"

"Yeah." However, I'm not here to talk about Raphael. "What did you find out about the justice?"

"On paper, he's clean."

"No one owns him?"

"Not as far as I can see. I did a little digging, but his reputation with regard to bribes is lily white." The corner of his mouth lifts. "Not so much where women are concerned. That one is a player. He's got a long list of mistresses under his belt." His smile stretches into a humorless grin. "Excuse the pun."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary."

I stand. "Keep tabs on him."

He squints at me. "What am I looking for? Something to use against him?"

"Anything," I say in a clipped voice. "If he farts, I want to know where and when."

"Got it." Dante follows my lead, pushing to his feet. "Why the sudden interest in the justice? Is he someone we need to worry about?"

"Not yet." I straighten my jacket. "But he may become a problem."

He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing me through the slits. "Why do I get the feeling your business with him is personal?"

I don't mind telling him, "It's personal all right."

"Does Luigi know?"

"Not yet, and I prefer to keep it that way." I add with a tight jaw, "For now."

At some point, when Anya starts to show, Luigi will demand answers. I won't be able to keep the truth from him for long, and he's not going to like it. My alibi is pregnant with the child of a justice who holds a lot of power in the state. People with those kinds of ties are a danger to the business. Luigi will see it as another motivation to kill her.

Dante raises his hands. "Don't look as if you're about to chomp off my head. What's said between us stays in this room."

Yes, it does. That's why he's the only man I can trust with this task.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," he calls after me as I stalk to the elevator. "Do you want me to organize you a fake date to keep Giorgio off your back?"

I pause at the exit. The bouncer pushes the button to call the elevator.

Turning to Dante, I say, "I have a date."

He goes still. The shock that washes over his features is a foreign look on him. Little surprises him.

The swoosh at my back announces the opening of the elevator doors. I get inside. When the first floor number lights up, the doors close on the image of Dante staring at me with a slack jaw.