White Knight (Dirty Mafia Duet, #2)(57)

I jerk forward and throw my arms around Cannon’s shoulders, tears spilling down my cheeks. “I really want that to be true. I can’t take that away from him. I can’t.”

“You won’t. I promise. No matter what happens, I love you. I don’t care if you’re Drew, Memphis, or Alessandra. I don’t care which wigs and contacts you wear or how much makeup. I love you.”

I pull back and blink while Cannon reaches up to swipe the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.

“I love you too. But still, I don’t like not knowing who I am. I need to know for sure, even if I don’t want it to be true.”

“Then we’ll find out,” Cannon says.

“How?”

“I don’t think the Rossettis are going to volunteer a DNA sample, but I’m pretty damn sure we can take one after they’re dead.” The gruesome suggestion comes from Benny.

“We’re not killing them, Ben. We’ll take them out the smart way, and they’ll spend the rest of their lives rotting in federal prison.”

The old man hacks and coughs again. “How the hell do you propose we make that happen?”

“I have a plan.” Cannon rises and holds out a hand to me.

I stand, staying close to him once I’m on my feet, as if I’m using him as an anchor. Which I am, because nothing else in this room or city makes sense except for what I feel for him.

“We trade me for Cynthia,” Cannon says, “just like they demanded.”

At that moment, I’m glad I’m holding on tight to him, because the suggestion would have otherwise taken me to my knees.

“No! Not a chance in hell!” My protest fills the room as Benny shakes his head.

“No. I agree with the girl. We have to find another way. They’ll kill you.”

“And you don’t think they’ll kill her?”

As soon as Cannon says it, bleak despair fills my chest. I can’t let Cynthia die. No matter what, I’ll always love her in my own way. I can’t sacrifice her to keep Cannon. But I can’t lose him either.

It’s an impossible situation. An impossible choice. The clock is ticking, and I have no idea how the hell we’re going to get out of this mess.

I won’t lose Cannon. I can’t let anything happen to Cynthia.

So, what the hell do we do?

A man fills the doorway and steps inside the room. Cavanaugh Westman, Hollywood’s hottest action star. Now that I’m looking, I see the stamp of the Casso family resemblance on his features.

He takes in all of us, giving me a double-take due to my lack of Drew Carson wig and contacts, I’m sure, before meeting Cannon’s gaze.

“Fill me in. I might have been out of the game for a while, but whatever the hell is going on, I can help.”





40





Cannon





Beside me, Memphis clutches my hand, and I can only imagine the battle raging within her. Just like it’s raging in me.

The only choice we can make is clear.

I won’t let a woman die to save my own ass—especially someone who isn’t and has never been involved in the game. She may be a piece of work and a terrible mother, but she’s not to blame when it comes to this. I’m not that kind of man, and I never will be.

The Rossettis will kill her . . . of that I have no doubt. They had no problem timing their drive-by to hit the whole family standing on the sidewalk, instead of waiting until it was just the men. They won’t hesitate to put a bullet between Cynthia Lockwood’s eyes to prove a point.

As for me? They’ll kill me too. After they torture me. Or try to, at least.

An outsider might think it’s strange that they didn’t ask to trade for Dom, but it doesn’t to me. He’s in the hospital, recovering from a heart attack, which the Rossettis would already know through their network of informants. There’s a reason I left his security with him 24/7. Because I don’t trust the Rossettis won’t try to off him in his bed.

Dom is an injured animal to them. Not a risk. Enzo’s also laid up, which means the most potent threat to their organization is me.

I see their logic, even though I think it’s flawed. I’m not going to be a gangster, despite what Dom expects of me if I were to take over the family. I’m a businessman, and a hell of a good one. I could easily revamp the family businesses and create more profit from legal activities than Dom does from illegal ones. He’s just never given me the opportunity to prove it. And if I turn myself over to the Rossettis, I may never get a chance.

No. I’m not dying today. I’m not going to be another casualty of this bitter feud, which now is finally making sense.

I know Dom killed Gianni Rossetti because Rossetti came to him and accused him of torturing and murdering his wife and tried to kill him for it, even though he’d entered the meeting under the premise of coming in peace. Dom shot Rossetti in self-defense because the man was out of his mind with grief, something that Dom’s security should have picked up on before letting the man in the room. Gianni Rossetti had to have already packed off Memphis to Lockwood at that point, because that’s the only way he would have taken the risk and truly have nothing to lose. To Dom, I have to imagine it felt a whole lot more like Rossetti committing suicide by rival rather than a murder.