Nico (Ruin & Revenge #1)(19)
“Mr. Toscani. Please.” Lennie held out his hands. “Twenty percent is too high. I’m up to my ears in debt. How about I pay you something every week and you come by whenever you want for a meal on the house?”
With a sigh, Nico stood. “You come to me for help. But when I offer my protection, you negotiate?” Nico held up a box of matches he’d swiped on the way in. “Does that sound respectful to you? I come out of my way to see you, and you insult me? Is that how you treat a business partner? Your customers? I don’t think this business is worth saving. How about I burn the fucking place down right now?” He lit a match and threw it on the white cotton tablecloth. Big Joe, Luca, and Frankie jumped up as the tablecloth burst into flames.
“No. No. Please don’t burn it down.” Lennie begged, dropping to his knees as a waiter rushed over with a fire extinguisher. “I’m sorry, Mr. Toscani. Please. It was a very generous offer. I wasn’t thinking.”
Nico held up a hand, warning the waiter back. It would be a shame to let the restaurant and all the precious memorabilia burn, but sacrifices had to be made to ensure no one ever challenged his authority. Nico told people how it was. There was no negotiation. “You’re right. It was generous. Too generous.” Nico watched the flames climb down the tablecloth and lick the red velvet banquette while sweat beaded on Lennie’s brow. “I’ll take thirty percent of the business, and Luca here is gonna be the manager. You’ll be his assistant and you can teach him all he needs to know about your business.”
Nico didn’t look at Luca, knowing his friend wouldn’t be happy with the plan. Luca already had a restaurant to run, as well as his other businesses. But he had turned that small place around and made it into one of the best Italian eateries in the city. Nico had no doubt he could make a success of Il Tavolino, too.
“Yes, of course. Thank you Mr. Toscani.” Lennie glanced nervously at the flames. One more second and the banquette would catch fire, the sprinklers would turn on, the memorabilia would be destroyed, the fire department would show up and the entire evening would turn out to be a waste of time. Nico motioned to the waiter and the fire was quickly doused while Lennie wilted on the floor with a mumbled thanks.
Luca tapped Nico on the shoulder and spoke quietly in his ear. “I got a call from one the associates we sent to watch Vincenzo’s Trattoria. Don Toscani and Tony are there along with Don Cordano and his daughter, as well as a bunch of bodyguards. But get this. Don Falzone is there, too. Might be something else is going on—something bigger than just a wedding. You want to go check it out? It’s only a couple blocks away.”
Nico had been trying all day to think of a way to stop the wedding. The marriage would put a huge obstacle in his quest to avenge his father. And the thought of his sexy temptress with Tony made him want to punch something. Maybe if hadn’t met her before, seen that the fire courage she showed in his office were the truth of her essence, he might not have given their union a second thought. After all, his marriage to Rosa Scozzari would give him the power to overthrow both his uncle and Tony, even with the Cordano alliance. But something about Mia intrigued him—something much deeper than her beauty—and he was determined to find out what it was before Tony or some other wiseguy bastard stole her away.
“We’ll take a walk.” Nico brushed past a shell-shocked Lennie and headed for the door.
“I got no problem popping that fucker Tony, if you want,” Frankie said, coming up behind him. Frankie had more kills under his belt than any other Toscani enforcer, and no compunction about pulling the trigger. And yet he was the most loyal and trustworthy man Nico knew. There was no one he would rather have at his back.
“We’re not murderers,” Nico snapped. Santo and Tony had taken the family down a path that would make his father turn in his grave. When Nico’s father had been boss, civilians were considered untouchable, drugs, human trafficking, and prostitution beneath them, and the only people who got whacked were people like them.
Luca’s phone buzzed again, and his eyes widened as he checked the message. “We’d better hurry. There’s been gunfire. Multiple shots. Something big is going down.”
*
Run. Run. Run.
Mia heard the words as if they were far away. She tried to move but her feet were planted firmly on the floor. Frozen in shock and fear, she tried to make sense of the stillness around her when only moments ago the restaurant had echoed with gunfire—of the darkness, when there had been light.
“Papà?” Her father had been sitting at the table facing her, his eyes cold and hard as he assured Tony Crackers that underneath the punk clothes she had the same tits and pussy as any woman, and she’d been trained to obey. Alfio, who had been escorting her back from the restroom, had grabbed her chin and twisted her head so Tony could see the bruise on her cheek.
Where was Alfio? He’d released her when the lights went out. She’d heard gunfire, a grunt, and a thud. Many thuds. And then the noise stopped, and Alfio’s clammy grasp slipped away.
Carefully, she edged her foot to the side where he’d been standing and made contact with something soft. She didn’t like Alfio. He’d always been cruel when carrying out her father’s orders—holding her too tight, shoving her too hard, his hands surreptitiously touching her when her father wasn’t looking. But she knew him—had known him since she was six years old—and in the darkness, better the devil you know than the one you don’t.