Chapter 24

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

Saverio

" Y ou shouldn't lie about things like love," Anya says in the Corvette on the way back home.

There's an edge to my girl's voice. I don't have to look at her to know she's upset.

When I stop at a red light, I give her my full attention. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Her beautiful amber eyes flare. "You told Livy you love my baby."

"I took responsibility for you. Why wouldn't I take responsibility for your child?"

She lifts a finger. "Now that's a big statement and very much debatable, but that's not the point. Responsibility isn't the same as affection." She crosses her arms. "Love is sacred. It's not a word you throw around when you don't mean it."

I study her features in the kaleidoscope of yellow, white, and ruby lights that filter through the window. "It's obviously a trigger word for you. Is that because your mother doesn't love you?"

Her body goes rigid. "Just because you know a few facts about my family, don't assume to know everything."

Ah. I'm right. "Which word do you prefer I use? Care?"

"I prefer that you don't lie at all."

The light changes. I put the car in gear and face the road. "Given our circumstances, that'll be complicated. Correction. That'll be impossible."

She makes a frustrated sound. "All I ask is that you don't act as if you care with…with…"

I raise a brow. "With what?"

"With so much intensity," she says with a puff of air.

"Why?"

She turns in her seat. "Are you going out of your way to make my life difficult?"

"On the contrary," I drawl. "Why would a devoted boyfriend complicate your life?"

"It'll be more difficult to explain our breakup when our agreement comes to an end."

I tense at that.

The truth is so much more complicated than lies about love. There is no end to this agreement. In time, she'll realize her life will never be safe if I let her go. And yes, when I decided not to kill her, I did take responsibility for the consequences that came with that decision. If I tell her that now, however, she'll freak out, and that can't be good for the baby.

Annoyance rides on her tone. "Did you hear what I said, Sav?"

Fuck. I like it when she says my name. It's as if she's reaching into my chest and poking my heart.

My phone rings. It's Giorgio.

It's not the time, but he doesn't call unless it's urgent.

I answer with the handsfree function. "I'm in the car with Anya."

"You better come down to Obsidian. Two of our men are down."

I grip the wheel hard. "I'll be there in twenty."

He hangs up with, "I'll tell my father you're on your way."

Taking the first side road, I turn the car around.

"What's going on?" Anya asks in a nervous tone.

Goddamn.

Obsidian is our second biggest club. If two of our men are down, it wasn't an accident. The attack was targeted, and that means war.

"Sav?" Anya says again.

I call Kevin and instruct him to meet me there so he can take her home. A battlefield isn't a safe place for her, but time is of the essence. It'll take too long to drop her off first.

I'm a good driver. My father knew how to handle cars as well as he knew their insides. He taught me to drive as soon as I could see over the dashboard. With Anya in the car, I don't push down on the accelerator though. I sharpen my focus and stick to the speed limit.

In just over twenty-five minutes, I stop in front of the club that's tucked between two theaters in Broadway. As I told Kevin to go home when I met Anya at Livy's, it'll take him longer to get here.

I take my gun from the glove compartment and shove it in the waistband of my pants under my jacket, ignoring the nervous flare of Anya's eyes.

A valet runs up when I get out. I hand him my key and get Anya's door. I shouldn't take her inside, but I can't leave her alone in the car.

One of our men who stands at the entrance greets me with a nod.

"Secure?" I ask under my breath.

"You can go ahead. Luigi is waiting."

"What's going on?" Anya asks when I take her elbow and steer her inside the building.

Looking on from the outside, everything seems normal. The music is pumping, and the bar is crowded. At the absence of waitresses, the clientele have to get their own drinks. The décor is unsophisticated, and the liquor is cheap. Whereas After Dark caters for the rich and famous, a younger crowd with less money to spend on booze frequents Obsidian. It's a popular hangout for new generation upcoming professionals. If After Dark is focused on quality, we make our money here on quantity.

A bouncer catches my gaze and tilts his head toward the stairs. Giorgio stands on the landing, gripping the balustrade. The end of the cigarette in his mouth glows red. He grabs the filter between a forefinger and a thumb and flicks the butt over the rail.

The bouncers at After Dark answer to me. Luigi may think they work for him, but that's not how I run the club. Although I oversee Obsidian like I manage all Luigi's assets, I don't work with these guys every night. I don't know them well enough to trust them.

Not taking a risk, I hold Anya close to my side and move around the back of the bar, where there are less feet, before taking the stairs.

Giorgio waits in front of the office with a grim look on his face. "In there."

I open the door of the adjoining private lounge and stick my head around the jamb. The room is empty of people. It's reserved for management and staff. The only furnishings include a couple of sofas, a coffee table, a bar fridge, and a big screen television mounted on the wall.

Satisfied that there's no one, I drag Anya inside by the hand and grab a bottle of water from the fridge that I leave on the table.

"Stay here until I come back for you," I say.

"Where are you going?" she asks, her expression panicked.

I wrap my fingers around her nape, pull her closer, and press a kiss on her forehead. "I promise you'll be out of here as soon as Kevin arrives."

I'm already at the door when she says, "Sav."

My name on her lips stops me. I hover for a moment, tempted to go back and reassure her, but I harden my heart and shut the door. I lock it from the outside and pocket the key.

The smug grin Giorgio usually greets me with is absent. He watches me from under his eyebrows as he brushes his floppy fringe back with his fingers. "This is a fuckup."

"What happened?" I ask in a clipped tone, walking ahead of him with long strides.

He catches up when I stop in front of the office.

Opening the door, he says, "See for yourself."

I cross the threshold and take in the scene. Our manager and his second-in-command lie in a puddle of blood on the floor, their shirts torn from the bullet holes that pepper their chests. Luigi stands at the corner of the desk with pursed lips, his knuckles white around the head of his cane. Raphael leans on the wall with his hands shoved in his pockets.

I narrow my eyes. "What's he doing here?"

Giorgio closes the door. Pointing at the bodies on the floor, he says, "He shot them."

My gaze is drawn to a gun with a silencer screwed onto the barrel that lies on the desk.

I pin that fucker, Raphael, with a look even as I direct my question at Luigi. "Did he admit it, or is that what we assume?"

"He took the blame," Luigi spits out.

"Why?" I ask with a cold smile. "Did they insult the size of your dick, Morelli?"

Raphael shrugs. "I didn't like them."

Luigi stamps his cane on the floor and says with a purple face, "You don't walk in here and shoot my men because you don't fucking like them."

"They were doing you in, stealing your money," Raphael says.

Luigi points his cane with a shaky arm at Raphael. "Then show me the fucking evidence."

Raphael straightens. "Well, they didn't literally take your money, but the laziness of these cocksuckers cost you at least fifty grand every quarter."

"What the fuck are you saying?" Giorgio asks with a small laugh.

Raphael pulls back his shoulders. "I'm saying that they did a half-assed job."

Giorgio laughs harder. "You're fucking delusional."

"These were trusted men." Luigi takes his gun from his waistband and aims the barrel at Raphael's head. "Elena's fiancé or not, what you did deserves justice."

Not a muscle twitches in Raphael's face. "You made a mistake in trusting them. This place can bring in double the money." He advances toward Luigi, walking blood all over the floor. "I can prove it."

Luigi's upper lip curls. "How?"

"Put me in charge."

"Of Obsidian?" Giorgio asks with another disbelieving chuckle.

"Give it a year," Raphael says, holding Luigi's furious gaze. "If I don't double your profits, you can shoot me."

That sly fucking bastard. I ball my hands into fists, knowing what he's doing. I'd like nothing more than to shoot a hole in his lung and let him drown in his own blood, but—sadly—he's engaged to Elena. It's a family matter now. As Luigi is the wronged party, only he can decide.

Luigi looks at me. "Sav?"

At the fact that his father asked for my opinion and not for his, Giorgio grits his teeth.

"It'll be a mistake," I say, clenching my jaw.

"Fifty grand every quarter." Raphael grins. "Are you going to say no to two hundred grand per year? Imagine two hundred times all the clubs you own. That quickly amounts to millions."

Luigi pulls his eyes into slits. His hold on the gun slackens, the weight of the weapon pulling his arm down.

Motherfucker.

Luigi has always been greedy. I guess it takes one to know one. That's what Raphael is cashing in on, and I see the exact moment that Luigi's greediness wins over his common sense. The smile that curves Raphael's lips says the son of a bitch knows he's won.

"One year," Luigi says. "And the wedding will go ahead as planned."

"Deal." Raphael extends a hand. "I'm glad you're a reasonable man."

Luigi accepts with a handshake. "But if you fail, the Morelli territory you manage is mine, and I'll put a bullet between your eyes myself."

"I better not fail then. Elena is very fond of me. Losing her husband will break her heart."

I don't think so. Judging by the irritated glances Elena sent him at the club, she'll only be too happy if someone puts her betrothed six feet under.

"Gentlemen," Raphael says, saluting Giorgio and me as he walks from the room with his blood-soaked shoes.

I stare after him. If Giorgio is a loose cannon, Raphael is an untrustworthy snake. I'd take ten of Giorgio over one of Raphael any day. I'm going to keep even closer tabs on that cunning bastard.

"Get this fucking mess cleaned up," Luigi says, waving his cane on his way to the door.

My phone pings in my pocket. I take it out. It's Kevin, letting me know he arrived. I send a reply, telling him I'll drive Anya myself after all.

On my way out, I fire off a message to Dante, informing him of what happened and ordering him to double our resources on Raphael. I want reports on his every move.

"Hey," Giorgio says behind me. "Where are you going?"

"You heard your father." I don't look back as I head through the door. "Get this mess cleaned up."