15. Angelo Needs Help

FIFTEEN

Angelo Needs Help

JULIAN

A lessio sat with Tomasso for several more hours, extracting every bit of information he could. Alessio was thorough; he made Tomasso go over the identities of the men who arrived at the church that morning. He focused on what they looked like, the type of car they drove, and even information that would seem insignificant to anyone else that could be significant in tracking down Anton.

Once Alessio was done, Davide took him over to the bunkhouse. The guys named it that, but in reality, it's a very cool place. It looks like a modern barn, but inside, it has ten private bedrooms, a family room, several modern bathrooms, and a state-of-the-art kitchen where a cook comes in to make sure all the guards are fed well. It's where all the men stay when they're on duty to look after our capo and their family.

Davide is staying with Tomasso for the next few days. Meanwhile, Alessio has given Niccolo and me the task of tracking Angelo down. Before leaving, I find Milana upstairs, sitting in the chair by the window, staring out at the garden below.

"Babe, what are you doing up here all alone?" I ask.

Milana glances over her shoulder with a small smile. It's not a real smile; it's totally fake. I know her smile, because when it's authentic, the entire room becomes brighter. What she's giving me now is so forced that I feel the heaviness in her heart.

"Josie has her hands full with Nicco. I thought I would hang upstairs for a while," she says. "And I can use a little time alone," she adds when she sees that I'm not buying what she's saying.

I go to her and tug her out of the chair, sit in it, and pull her onto my lap. "I call bullshit, babe. I'd like to give you the time, but in a few minutes, Niccolo is going to be calling for me and then we're out of here. When I leave, I gotta have my head on straight to deal with Angelo Corso. So I'm going to ask once more: what's on your mind?"

Milana looks into my eyes and whispers, "When does it end?"

"Soon—"

"No." She runs a hand through her hair. "That's not true. First, my father tries to marry me off and gets himself and my mother killed. Then I lived on the streets, and if it weren't for Barry, I wouldn't have lasted a week on my own. I finally thought I had it together, that I'd left it all behind, but then I saw you, and I couldn't let them kill you. I fell in love with you that day," she says quietly.

"Miele mia?—"

She won't let me speak. "I knew the likelihood would be that I would die if Alessio caught me, but I didn't care. You were worth it." She smiles shyly. "Then you saved me. I didn't care about the traditions because you were taking a chance on me, and I vowed I would be the best wife I knew how to be." Milana's voice drops in sadness. "Why won't they let us live in peace? Why can't we have a home together, maybe a family?"

"We will. We will have a family. But we will never be normal because that's not the world we live in. I'll do all I can to give you the calm you need to feel safe, but tomorrow will come, and some days will be great, and others will come with problems. No matter what happens, we'll see it through. It'll make us stronger," I tell her.

"I hate that this is happening because of me."

"You're just the excuse. If you weren't here, the Russians would find another. You just happen to be convenient. It won't serve them," I assure her. "We're close. Very close. When this is over, I'm taking my wife on a proper honeymoon."

I hear Niccolo call my name. I motion for Milana to get up and come to my feet. "Please be careful," she says with her arms around my neck. She raises her face, her lips beckoning to me. I drop my head and kiss her sweetly.

"I've got someone to come home to." I give her my sexy grin, and she rewards me with one of her own. "Be back as quick as I can."

* * *

N iccolo and I stopped off at Angelo's home first. His wife was home alone, and she was clearly upset.

"Tomasso has not been home in a couple of days. I'm worried sick," she says. Her puffy eyes tell us she's been crying. On Alessio's orders, we're not to divulge that Tomasso is safe, and his location is to remain unknown for the time being.

Niccolo is practiced in how to deal with these situations and takes the lead. "We're concerned too. We wanted to offer our help in searching for him. I assume Angelo is out looking as we speak?"

"He is. Angelo's a mess. He thinks the Russians have him. I don't even understand. Tomasso has always kept his head down. He hasn't had any part of his father's business. He's been too busy with school. Why would they take my boy?" she sobs.

Niccolo reaches out and gently places his hand on her arm. "We'll find him. But to do so, you'll have to tell us where we can find Angelo. I've tried calling, but he's not picking up."

"He forgot his phone again," she says. "He's been doing that a lot lately. Forgetting things and getting confused. I think he's under too much pressure. He's been so irritable, losing his temper and snapping at everyone. The other day, he just stared at me blankly like he didn't know who I was. It's just all becoming too much." Her shoulders sag, and she looks like she's ready to drop. Niccolo guides her to her living room and sits her down in an armchair.

"Is anyone home with you?" he asks.

"Lucinda is in the kitchen," she murmurs.

"Julian is going to have her make you a cup of tea. You need to let us handle this, and we'll bring your family home," Niccolo tells her. I find the maid, Lucinda, in the kitchen and make sure she understands to keep checking on Mrs. Corso. Tomasso is an only child, and without any other family, this situation must be very hard on her.

On my way back to the living room, I catch sight of Niccolo in Angelo's office and join him. "Find anything?" I ask.

"Something's not right. Angelo's always been an old-fashioned, good ole boy, a follow-the-rules underboss. He never liked change and has always held on to the old ways of thinking, but he'd never be a traitor. He's been losing focus lately, more forgetful. I spoke to a couple of his men, and they say he's been missing meetings, then gets angry, insisting he didn't have a meeting," Niccolo says while continuing to rummage through his desk.

"He's not old enough to think he's senile."

Niccoli sighs. I see a date book that's fallen to the ground partially under the desk and pick it up. I turn to the page with today's date. 8 p.m.—Meet with Antonio Saverino, it reads. I turn the book toward Niccolo, bringing it to his attention. "Who the hell is Antonio Saverino?" I ask. I've worked and trained with most of the underbosses, and I've never heard of this man. That's not to say he isn't one of ours, because Alessio commands thousands of men throughout the city.

"Never heard of the guy," Niccolo grumbles, taking the book out of my hand and flipping through the pages. "This guy didn't exist until a week after you were attacked." He continues to scan the pages, paying close attention. "Then it seems that he met with Angelo regularly, weekly." He takes the book and heads for the door. "Let's go. I want to call Alessio and see if he's ever heard of this guy."

We say our goodbyes to Tomasso's mother, reassuring her that we'll find her son, and take off. In the car, Niccolo makes the call and tells Alessio what we've found. He's on his way to the bunkhouse to see what Tomasso knows about this man and is going to have Davide do a search for him on the internet.

Niccolo and I drive to three different locations that Angelo normally works from, and no one has seen Angelo yet today. At our last stop, we learn that one of his men, Theo, has been trying to get in touch with him without any luck. Niccolo and I immediately notice the concern on the faces of these men.

"Mr. Corso hasn't been here at all today. He was supposed to be here hours ago to approve the shipment. It has to go out tonight," Theo informs us.

Niccolo jerks his head toward the shipment and says to me, "Go take a look. Make sure it all matches. If it does, I'll approve it." He looks back at Theo. "You come with me."

I go off with some of the guys and inspect the shipping containers and crates to make sure it's all there. We have a deal with several dealers and part of the deal says that if we're late on delivery, they take ten percent off the original agreed-upon price. With the size of this shipment, we're talking over a hundred thousand dollars. Alessio would flip his lid.

It's several hours later before we sort through it all, but in the end, we're ready to move it all out on trucks and to our counterparts. I make sure the trucks are loaded, and all the documents are in order should the drivers get stopped. I've alerted the local law enforcement on the payroll that we're rolling out product tonight and to keep the roads clear.

Niccolo and I stay until the last truck is out of the lot. Before leaving, Niccolo asks Theo to call Angelo's home to see if he's back yet. "Tell him you just want to remind him of the shipment going out," Niccolo directs him. Angelo picks up and tells Theo he'll be there in the morning.

We say our goodbyes and call Alessio on our way. He's furious abut the shipment, but that takes a back burner to Angelo's involvement with a man no one has ever heard of.

"Angelo is supposed to meet with the guy tonight at eight," Niccolo reminds him.

"If he can remember where he has to be," Alessio replies snidely.

"Has Davide found anything more on this Antonio guy?" I ask.

"He's not part of Il Destino and Davide is doing some program algorithm to see what he can find," Alessio responds, then adds. "You say Angelo's home. I'll send a direct order to his men to inform me when he leaves and have the driver alert us too. You might as well come back here while we wait it out."

"On our way," Niccolo says.

* * *

Milana

I t's good to feel useful. When Josie suggested that I make dessert for tonight, I nearly did a happy jig. She started talking about how much Alessio likes his hazelnut chocolate, and I mentioned this super-easy recipe I learned from the cook when I worked at the diner. I'm not into complicated recipes, but this one is easy and filled with chocolatey hazelnut goodness.

Alessio's been locked in his office, coming out periodically to kiss his wife or play with his son, Nico. He really is a complicated man. He's the most feared man in our world, but he sits on the floor and plays trucks with his Nico, making my heart melt.

I think Julian will be a wonderful father. He has such patience, and he's had a very good role model. Joe Sr. has mastered balancing being a killer by day and loving father by night. And somewhere along the way, he's been able to raise his children to be respectful, loving people. I know he still mourns the loss of his firstborn. I wish I could say that I mourn my parents, but I don't.

The loss I feel is about having a caring home or a room filled with love, good food, and laughter. I honestly can't remember a time when I had that with my parents.

But that's all in the past, and since Josie's giving me free rein to produce a wonderful, sweet treat, I put my mind to it and start. I think Josie knows that I have to keep my mind busy. I've been thinking all day about Julian and whether he's safe and what he and Niccolo have found out. Alessio did tell me that they were on their way back and that they were picking up Valentina and would be staying for dinner.

I get to work on baking the graham cracker crust, then putting together the cream cheese, icing sugar, whipping cream, and hazelnut spread and mixing it all in thoroughly until it's silky smooth. As I finish, I feel eyes on me and twist to see Julian leaning against the doorway, watching and smiling.

I drop the spoon into the bowl with a loud clink and race over to him, wrapping my arm around his neck and pressing my lips to his. He immediately takes over, melding his mouth to mine in a ravenous kiss, his hands pressing into my back, pulling me closer, our bodies heated even through the layers of our clothing, and when he breaks the kiss, we're both breathless.

"What you did just now, remember that. I want that every night I come home," Julian says with a sexy grin. "I'd like to continue this, but we're in our capo's home, and I'm pretty sure he'd blow his stack if he found us fucking on his kitchen floor." He chuckles.

I giggle, batting my eyes, and respond, "I can't help if you're so sexy I can't keep my hands off you."

He gives me a swift, hard kiss. "Behave." He looks past me to the counter. "What are you making?"

"Dessert," I say proudly and extricate myself, but I take his hand and lead him over to my creation. "It's really good. It goes in the refrigerator for a couple of hours to set." I hold up the beater. "Want a taste?"

His tongue darts out, and he takes a lick. His eyes get wide, and he exclaims, "Damn, that's good."

My chest swells. I made it for Alessio, but I'm happier that Julian seems to like it. "I hope it's a hit. I'm not the best baker, but this is the one dessert I make really well," I tell him with a shy smile. "I'm glad Josie gave me something to do. I was going a little stir-crazy."

"We found out that Angelo Corso, the guy you met at the blood ceremony, is somehow connected with all this. But I honestly think he isn't doing it deliberately," he says. "It's weird. This guy was always on the ball. Never missed a meeting, and he ran his business right. Shit's not right. He's forgetting stuff and has been having violent mood swings. His men are worried, his son is really worried, and his wife is a fucking mess."

"It seems like Angelo needs help," I reply.

Julian lifts his brow, leans a hip against the counter, and stares at me. "This man might be responsible, along with some guy named Antonio Saverino, for everything that's happened since I was kidnapped and left for dead. How do you have compassion for this man?"

I can understand his view. "He's an older guy, and he may have an illness. You said he's becoming more forgetful. He's having these mood swings. I'm far from an expert, but it sounds a lot like dementia or even Alzheimer's. And if it is, his family is losing their father and husband a little at a time. It's a horrible disease. Angelo may not even understand what's happening to him. It's easy to manipulate someone with this kind of illness." I gently touch his arm. "He needs help, honey."