Chapter 20

20

Creed

F or the fifth time today, I pull out Zara’s phone and read the text from “Even Bigger Piece of Shit.” The one that came in the night after the dinner at the Rovinas and says: WHERE’S MY SON? I’m going to find you and make you regret this, you stupid little slut.

It didn’t take but a few seconds to confirm that the number was, of course, Emilio texting Zara. The way he insults her infuriates me. While I may not know my wife well, I do know that she is not stupid or a slut.

And I haven’t told her that Emilio suspects her and is searching for her. There’s no need to worry her.

She’ll never need to know she’s in danger or be afraid of what he’ll do to her daughter because I’m going to get Zara’s daughter back to her safe and sound as soon as possible.

It’s an idea that I’ve been chewing on ever since she told me about Oriana, but now I’m ready to make it happen. Which leads me to the second part of that plan that I’m fucking dreading. One I’ve tried to figure out a better option but can’t.

Once Zara has her daughter back, I’m going to have to send them both as far away from New York City as possible.

I don’t like it. In fact, I fucking hate the thought of being away from her for even a few hours a day. But I don’t see any other choice.

Taking out Emilio is not something I can make happen overnight without serious casualties in my own family. And as long as he suspects Zara of having something to do with Izaiah’s disappearance, she’s not safe in this city or even this country.

When he finds out her daughter has been taken, I’m certain he’ll ramp up those efforts to find her.

Which means I need to get them both out of the country and I need to do it fast.

The fact that I’m not spending every waking minute trying to find the girl makes me feel like an asshole.

But I like having Zara in my penthouse, in my bed, having meals with her, and making meals out of her. I think I could stay between her legs forever.

Which is ridiculous and doesn’t make any sense. I barely know her. We haven’t even been married a week.

Every night I go to bed still horny as hell for Zara after eating her out over and over again with no relief for myself, and I find her sound asleep.

That’s how I know it’s official – I’m a fucking idiot.

I should’ve taken her up on her offer to come to bed with her. I could’ve had her amazing ass against my lap all night without thrusting inside her. Probably. But I haven’t tried to do so yet. I let her sleep and I stay on my side of the bed.

Something is holding me back from taking her.

I have to let Zara go soon, and I already fucking miss her .

There’s no reason to make it even worse by giving in and doing everything that I want to do to her and have to live with only the memories for the rest of my life.

I need to focus on making sure Emilio doesn’t find out I killed Izaiah, determine if he was involved in having Carmine killed, and get Zara her daughter back all without it blowing back on me or my family.

I don’t trust private investigators who aren’t part of the family enough to pull them into tracking Rovina or finding where he’s keeping Oriana, so I’m just going to have to do it myself.

And as for my men who all want to be doing something for Carmine, well, I guess it’s time to ask for backup. I’ll have them keep an eye on the other families. Otherwise, they’ll start getting suspicious about why I’m not doing more to find out who is responsible for killing my brother and Jasper.

I want to find and punish every single person responsible for my brother’s death. I owe that to him.

But I also hate the reminder that Zara is one of those individuals.

Even though we’re married and she’s now my wife, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to forgive her or fully trust her.

“How is your leg?” Zara asks during breakfast after I watched her barely pick at the fruit on her plate and fidget with the hem of my white tee for half an hour.

“Healing.”

She nods. “That’s good,” she replies while pushing a loose curl behind her ear.

“What’s up, Zara?” I say, since she obviously wants to say more.

She lifts her eyes to mine. “I know I’m a pain in your ass, but could I ask you for a favor? ”

“Of course.” I sip my glass of orange juice. “And you’re not a pain in my ass.” I assume she’s going to ask me if I could help her get custody of her daughter.

Instead, she says, “Tonight…it’s Thursday.”

“Okay?”

“Thursday is when Eugene, the armed robber, comes to the store.”

“Oh. Right,” I reply in understanding. “You don’t want him to show up and fake rob your replacement?”

“No. I don’t want him to get arrested, and I don’t want him and his sisters to go without food for a week either.”

The woman’s heart is bigger than the entire state, and despite all the reasons why I shouldn’t, I still wish I could own a little piece of it someday.

“I’ll handle it,” I promise her.

“You’ll go meet him? Between nine and ten tonight?”

“Yes. I’ll meet him in the alley before he pulls out his gun and give him enough money to get by for the week.”

“Thank you.” She smiles. “Despite how it looks, he really is a good kid doing the best he can for those he loves.”

“I get it,” I tell her. She’d do anything for her daughter and respects the kid for helping his younger siblings. I don’t blame her. In fact, he’s the type of man I wouldn’t mind having in our family.

Glancing at my watch, I realize I need to leave now if I don’t want to be late for my meeting. I toss my napkin on the plate and go around the table to give Zara a kiss on her forehead. “See you tonight?”

“See you then,” she replies. Grabbing the front of my suit jacket, she pulls me closer to kiss me.

After that, it’s nearly impossible to leave. But I make myself walk away, heading down to Omerta, where I’ve called an emergency meeting .

It’s rare to have all my family in one place at the same time, but it’ll be easier to talk to everyone at once.

As is our usual procedure, every man drops his phone and weapon in a box as soon as they come off the elevators and are searched for wires before being allowed in the conference room, which takes up nearly a quarter of the social club on the thirty-sixth floor. Most will have to stand, since the space isn’t big enough for a group meeting this large.

Once everyone has been checked in, I take my place at the front of the conference room. Buttoning the front of my jacket, I can’t help but think about Zara in a similar one.

“Thank you all for coming,” I start. “I’m sure you already know what this is about. We have to figure out who is behind Carmine’s murder, who is responsible for setting us up at The Vault. There has to be some loose end either in the PD or in one of the families. Have your associates put out feelers, listen to gossip, and report anything you hear to Lorenzo, no matter how small or unimportant you might think it is. Any questions?”

“Do you think the missing Rovina son could be connected?” a thirty-something delivery driver asks.

“It’s possible,” I say. My men don’t need to know what I did to Izaiah unless we get dragged into a war for it.

“So should we also listen out for details on Rovina?” another one of our street soldiers who runs a food truck asks.

“Yes, absolutely. Everyone stay armed and alert.”

Once Dre finishes up with some bookkeeping matters, calling out those who still haven’t paid their dues this month, we adjourn.

“I’m starting to think we’re never going to figure this shit out,” Tristan says half an hour later once it’s just me, him, and Dre left in the conference room.

“Every secret comes out eventually,” I assure him. Hopefully, that’s not true about my own secrets. There is one secret I think I can finally trust them with .

“So, about Zara,” I start. “I know you think it’s too soon for me to marry her, but I told you I have my reasons.”

“Right? And?” Dre asks.

“And she probably won’t be staying with me much longer.”

Tristan and Dre exchange a look before Tristan says, “What do you mean, boss?”

“You know the little girl I had you look for at the Rovinas?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s Zara’s daughter. I’m going to get her daughter back from the Rovinas and then get them both out of the country, somewhere off the map where she can live without fear of…my enemies.” I start to say the Rovinas before catching myself.

“And let me guess, then you’re going to keep them up financially for the rest of their lives too?” Dre asks.

“Yes.”

“Not to sound like an asshole or anything, but why? Why go to all the trouble of marrying and helping this woman?”

“Because she’s my wife and I put her in a tough spot,” I admit. I don’t want them to know about her part in Carmine’s death. They’d never forgive her.

Nobody will know where she ends up either. I don’t plan to trust even my own family with that information.

Ready to change the subject because I already feel like a dick for keeping secrets from them, I ask Dre, “Any reconciliation in the works between you and the missus yet?”

“You think Stella returns my calls after throwing a drink in my face? Fuck no,” he grumbles. “And I’m not trying to speak to her again until she fucking apologizes.”

“Hell might freeze over before that happens,” Tristan mutters.

“Her brother is missing and likely dead,” I remind him. “Give the woman a break. Let her have a free pass this time and try to make amends. Emilio wants a wedding soon before his wife dies, so buy her a big-ass ring to show off to her friends. ”

“Right, I’m sure the rich mafia princess will warm right up to me after I give her an expensive ring her daddy could have bought her.”

“Then figure out some way to get on her good side. While everyone else is spying on the other families, you keep an eye on Stella. See what she likes, her hobbies and interests, then try to use that information to win her over. We could use an inside man in the Rovina family. Or woman in this case.”

“Right. I’ll do all the work to win her over just in time for us to find out her family killed Carmine.”

“We don’t know that it was the Rovinas who set us up.”

“All signs seem to point to them, boss,” Tristan points out.

“And if it was the Rovinas, we have to take them out, right?” Dre says.

“Right,” I agree. “Not Stella or Cami, but Saint if he was involved.”

“And Izaiah? Why did you dismiss his involvement so fast?” Dre asks, sounding suspicious.

Fuck.

“Izaiah being a part of it or not won’t matter if he never turns back up.”

“And what exactly are we going to do about these charges hanging over our heads?” Dre huffs. “It’s like you’ve forgotten we’re all headed to prison soon. Who’s going to run shit? How will we keep the Ferraro empire from falling during those three or four years?”

“I’ve been trying not to dwell on it too much, since my attorney doesn’t seem to think we can get out of it. It’s…inevitable.”

“No, it’s not. I’ll find a way to get us out of the bullshit charges,” Tristan declares.

“How the hell are you going to do that, Tristan?” Dre sounds as skeptical as I am. “You can’t kill the DA.”

“Why not? ”

“Because we would be at the top of the suspect list!” I remind him.

“Oh. Fuck. Well, I’ll figure something else out. I’m not letting our family’s empire fall apart.”

“Good luck with that,” I tell him seriously before I walk out of the conference room. It’s only been a few hours, but I’m ready to head back up to the penthouse.

While I know I shouldn’t spend any more time with Zara than necessary, I can’t seem to resist. I’m addicted to that woman and feel the need to spend as much time as I can with her before I have to let her go. And I want to spoil her too.

With everything that’s been going on, I had forgotten about the gift I bought her. The one in the box that’s been sitting on a table in the foyer for days now. I’ll give that to her and get her off a few times before I go meet her robber tonight.