Of volume lineage

XII

 

Giova

“We found Junior.”

Vitale Junior, principe of the Lombardi mob and once upon a time, its heir. We had been looking for him just as long as we had been looking for his parents.

“Where?”

My underboss passed me a tablet with a map on the screen. “He was at a Lo Duca residence.” Disapproval rung in Vincent’s voice. In his mind, if you were going to hide, at least hide somewhere that didn’t have any co

I glanced at the location, nodding in affirmation.

“He’s being transported by Domenico and his men.”

“Any sign of Vitale and his wife?”

Vincent’s brows furrowed. “His wife?”

“Maria Lombardi. You should know that.”

Wariness entered my underboss’s expression, and he shared a glance with Quintus. I waited for them to share.

“Sir, we haven’t been looking for Maria. We assumed because we have Isabella–”

“You have Isabella?” I hadn’t meant to sound so dangerous but something about his words irked me.

Vincent blinked in surprise before his brow creased with confusion. “I doubt Maria will be a threat, sir. It is unlikely that the Lombardi allies will unionize with a woman–they hold no real power, especially in more conservative organizations.”

“I’m well aware how our world treats women, Vincent.” I recalled Maria Lombardi, a traditional beauty who came from a good family. She spent her days ru

“I’ll divvy out some soldati to look for her–”

“It would be a waste of resources,” I said dismissively. “She would have gone directly to Vitale.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“Are you going to let Bartolomeo in on our search?” Quintus asked, voice wary. He was one of the few who were unsure about the merge, but he would come around. Eventually, they all would.

Except for me.

To me, there would always be Lombardis and Viglianos. There would always be those I trusted and those I didn’t. Some Lombardis would prove themselves to be trustworthy and some Viglianos might prove the opposite. Only time would reveal the truly loyal.

I thought of my new wife, the dark-haired beauty who had stolen the blanket in her sleep. Even unconscious, she had let her presence known. I thought sleeping beside someone else for the first time in decades would bother me a lot more than it had.

“No,” I disrupted my thoughts mid-sentence. “Bartolomeo ca

“He doesn’t seem torn up over losing Vitale.”

He didn’t. To him, Vitale had been an obstacle in the way of him becoming don. Now, I was that obstacle.

Vincent’s phone buzzed. “That was Domenico. They’ve taken him to the docks. Should we go?”

“What state did they leave him in?”

“He’s pretty roughed up.”

“Give him the day to heal. He will need all his strength for what I have in store for him.”

My underboss and capo gri

Capo Quintus left shortly after but Vincent hovered.

“You don’t trust Isabella,” I said before he opened his mouth.

He didn’t deny it. “I found her in your study, sir. She may be Vigliano in name, but she is still a Lombardi.”

“I agree.” I tilted my head as a sudden thought came to me. “I do not think she is a threat, but she is definitely not to be trusted. She will have to prove her loyalties, just like everyone else.”

“It’s harder with women–”

“It won’t be this time.”

Vincent sent me a strange look. “Giova

A strange thrill went through me at the thought. “I doubt it. She is much too emotional for that. I am just as safe sleeping beside a lamb.”

“Sir, I–”

“Don’t concern yourself with my wife, Vincent,” I said, tone harsh. “Not when you have much larger problems.”

He tried to hide his cringe. “Yes, sir.”

Vincent had been gearing up to ask me for Lucrezia’s hand in marriage for the past few months, but he hadn’t said the words out loud. I wasn’t in the mood to grant him any favours though I wasn’t sure why. Was it because he hadn’t found Vitale yet? Or had it been his comments against Isabella?

It didn’t matter because he never asked. I was struggling to understand why it was taking him so long. He knew he wanted Lucrezia, what was stopping him from getting her? When I wanted something, nothing got in my way.

Guilt, Leo had told me when I had mused about the situation with him. Vincent’s suffering from guilt.

I knew nothing about guilt. I doubted I ever would.

Once the meeting had ended, I stepped out to find Isabella loitering. She was sitting at the kitchen bench, pretending to enjoy a coffee, and read the newspaper, but from the inclination of her head, I could tell she had been trying to eavesdrop. I wished her the best of luck; the doors were soundproof.

Vincent said his goodbyes but not without sending a caution glance to Isabella. She ignored him.

“Were you trying to listen in?” I inquired outright.

Isabella snapped her head to me, eyes blown wide open. “What? No, no–”

I strolled closer, feeling both satisfaction and a

“There is nothing beautiful about being a woman in this life,” she reminded me before adding, “There is no beauty in this life.”

I rose my eyebrows at her dramatics. “Interest or nosiness?”

“What?”

“The reason why you were listening. Are you interested or are you just being nosey?”

Emotions I didn’t recognize passed rapidly over her face. Finally, she said, “Interested.” She lifted her chin up, dark hair sliding over her shoulders elegantly as she did so. “I know you like to pretend that only men can be mafiosi, but this life affects us just as much. And God knows I would make a formidable mafiosa.”

“Would you?”

“I would, yes. Much more formidable than that lovelorn idiot you have for an underboss.”

“Perhaps I’ll put you in a ring with Vincent to find out just how formidable you are.”

Isabella lips pressed together. “Is that another joke or are you being serious?”

“A joke.” I pictured Vincent’s hands on Isabella’s skin and felt something twist low in my gut. Perhaps I had eaten something bad this morning.

Her face bloomed at the humor, frown switching into a smile. “I never knew you were so fu

“I’m not.”

“You can’t lie to me. You’ve told a whole two jokes since we’ve met.” Isabella laughed. “The Apollo better watch out.”

I waved a dismissive hand at her. “The meeting is over so you can go back to your painting.”

Her cheeks pinkened. “I was taking a break.”

I had seen the look in her eyes when she had taken in the studio. Though I didn’t entirely understand what she was feeling, I knew she had been touched and seemed heartfelt in her gratitude.

“Try not to break this gift,” I told her as I turned on my heel. “Renovations are much more expensive than glue.”