Nico (Ruin & Revenge #1)(22)
He picked up his pool cue and glanced across the Toscani clubhouse where his most trusted soldiers and associates sat around the card table playing poker. Big Joe and former boxer, Mikey Muscles, had racked up most of the chips, but there was none of the usual banter. The world as they knew it had been shaken to its foundations. Never in the history of the U.S.-based Cosa Nostra had an attempt been made to kill three bosses—Don Cordano, Don Falzone and Don Toscani—in one night, and the repercussions of tonight’s massacre would be felt in New York and as far away as Sicily. With Santo dead, Nico and Tony would be locked in a battle to control the family, taking time and resources away from his quest to avenge his father by killing the man who murdered him.
What had come over him in the restaurant? He glanced at the woman tied to a chair on the other side of the room and immediately wished he hadn’t. He’d rushed into the restaurant expecting to find an army. Instead he found her. All lush curves, and long silky hair, full pouting lips and dark eyes the color of the warm, rich chocolate his nonna used for dipping her biscotti. She was so unlike the young girl he’d held in his arms the night his father died. And yet she had the same courage and determination, the same sense of justice and inner strength. But now they were coupled with a whole lot of sexy and a generous helping of sass.
He chuckled, remembering the venom that had spilled from her pretty lips as they dragged her to the vehicle. She was one hell of a fighter. Frankie had been forced to tie her hands with a curtain tie to save them both from serious injury.
But what to do with her? She wasn’t a docile, pampered Mafia princess, groomed to do her father’s bidding. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had pulled the trigger to get out of the marriage, in which case, he had a right to vengeance on behalf of the Toscani family, as did the new boss of the Falzone crime family. Did he offer her to the highest bidder? If she was innocent, he had to let her go. Mafia rules prohibited involving women in Mafia business. He couldn’t even hold her hostage, or trade her for the man he should have killed tonight.
She was definitely woman. His gaze raked over her body, lingering on her chest where her torn dress only barely concealed the swell of her breasts, before dropping down to her black leather shit-kicking boots with flowers embroidered on them. Christ. Those damn boots called to him, spoke to the wild side that he had inherited from his mother and repressed in a bid to become everything his father hoped he would be.
He tore his gaze away and looked at her face, marking the wide bruise across her cheek, her black eye, the blood splattered on her hair and skin. He felt a flicker of anger that someone had hurt her. Ironic, really since he might have to kill her.
Nico maintained his position as the most powerful capo in the family with direct acts of violence or with violence carried out on his behalf. Reputation was everything. The minute he showed mercy or tried to be a peace broker, his younger and more vicious soldiers would seize the reins of power from him. He had made an uncharacteristic tactical error tonight when he walked away from Don Cordano, and the repercussions could be severe. He couldn’t make the same mistake again.
“What’s the news?” Frankie and Luca joined him at the pool table as he took his shot. Nico thought best when his hands were busy, and pool was his favorite game.
“Tony’s alive.” He watched the four ball drop into the corner pocket. “He’s in the hospital under guard. Vincenzo’s is crawling with cops. Our man in the police department is giving me regular updates. The police have been all over the restaurant parking lot and they are combing the area. They haven’t found the murder weapon yet. They think it was one shooter and he managed to get pretty close before he opened fire.”
“Or she,” Luca said.
Nico’s gaze flicked to Mia. He couldn’t believe she had killed all those men in cold blood. When he’d turned on the lights, her face had registered only terror and shock, not guilt, satisfaction, or the fear of being caught. And if she had been responsible, the police would have found the gun. There hadn’t been enough time for her to run and hide it. And it wouldn’t make sense. Why go back?
Frankie gave an irritated grunt. “You gonna question her?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna question her. I didn’t bring her here to sit and look pretty.”
Luca grabbed a stick from the rack on the wall. “Cut Nico some slack. We don’t all want to walk on the dark side like you.”
Nico felt a tightening in his gut. He was losing Frankie. Ever since Santo and Tony had dragged their crews into the drug trade, Frankie spent more and more time alone, taking on jobs for Santo that no other soldier would touch. Every time he returned, he seemed less of the Frankie who had first come to Vegas, and more a dark version of himself.
“Forget about it.” Frankie made a rude gesture and walked over to the makeshift bar in the corner.
“He needs a woman.” Luca chalked his cue. “Someone who really gets him. Maybe you should ask if that girl who’s coming from Sicily has a sister.”
Nico doubted his prospective bride would “get” him either. No one really understood his wild side except his mother. As a teenager, he’d learned how to hide the wildness beneath a veneer of civility, how to leash the beast and walk among men. He had been on his way to becoming a man worthy of walking in his father’s shoes when fucking Battista Cordano put a bullet through his father’s heart.