When She Loves (The Fallen, #4)(90)

I stare at the gun on the coffee table between Nero and me. Since I’m not going to kill Nero, Gino will. Or at least he’ll try. And how many more will die as a result?

My jaw clenches. “No. Why are you calling me?”

“Cleo asked me to see if I can help somehow. She’s inconsolable.”

An ache appears inside my chest. I crack my neck, forcing myself to ignore the sensation. “I’m all fucking ears. Ferraro expects to see a body tomorrow. If he doesn’t, he will declare war. Many will die.”

Gino told me he had an affinity for water, but he won’t hesitate to let New York City go up in flames.

De Rossi makes a thoughtful noise. “You said Ferraro wants a body.”

“Yes, a body,” I answer.

Hold on. A beat passes. “Doesn’t have to be Nero’s body,” I whisper more to myself than to De Rossi.

Across the room, my consigliere looks up at me.

“Let’s talk it through,” De Rossi says. “I’m putting you on speaker. Ras and Giorgio are here too.”

I start pacing. “Right. Garzolo had a few big guys with him. About Nero’s size.”

“He did. We could get them back for you.”

If De Rossi brings me the bodies… “I could make it look like a fire. Make them unrecognizable.”

“Gino will want the remains,” De Rossi says. “He’ll want to verify it himself.”

“Yeah. He’ll check the DNA. Nero’s been swabbed before, and Gino has contacts inside the police who’ll be able to run it through the database.”

“I can update the records they have on file,” a deeper voice says, one I recognize as Giorgio’s.

I frown at the phone. “Are you sure?”

“It won’t be a problem,” he says, not a hint of uncertainty in his tone. “But you’ll still have to figure out what to do with Nero. He won’t be able to show his face around here ever again.”

I glance at my friend. He’s got his elbows on his knees, his palms cupped in front of his face.

“He’ll have to disappear,” I say.

Nero holds my gaze.

“I can’t send him to any of my safe houses in the state,” I say. “Too risky.”

“No, he has to leave New York,” Giorgio says. “I suggest sending him a few states over. Somewhere quiet without any mob presence. He can’t be spotted by anyone who could report back to Ferraro.”

Nero must pick up on what I’m proposing, because he gets to his feet, clear protest in his eyes.

Nero in a small town? What the fuck is a big-city guy like him going to do somewhere quiet on his own? He’s not going to like this, but he doesn’t have a choice. Not when the alternatives are death or war. I need to make sure he doesn’t come back, no matter what. But how?

Sandro picks that moment to walk through the door, two cups of coffee in hand. My gaze latches onto the driver. The kid’s got no family. He’s in his early twenties. And he owes Nero and me for pulling him out of the street racing scene where he would have crashed and broken his neck sooner or later.

I’ll send Sandro with Nero.

He’ll keep Nero from doing something stupid like coming back here as soon as things quiet down.

“Grab two of Garzolo’s men,” I say into the phone. “Sandro is going with Nero.”

“Sandro the driver?”

“Yeah.”

Sandro and Nero exchange a what-the-fuck look.

“All right,” Giorgio says. “Ras and I will grab the bodies and bring them to you. I’ll get a DNA sample from one of them, run it through as soon as we get back to Italy, and swap with Nero’s record,” Giorgio says. “That way, if anyone runs anything through the system, they’ll get the confirmation they’re looking for.”

I nod to myself. This is going to work. “We need to move quickly. Can you leave right now?”

“Yes,” Ras says. “Damiano will stay here to keep an eye on the women. If we all leave, they’ll get suspicious. How far are you from where we buried Garzolo’s men?”

“About forty-five minutes.” I rattle off the address we’re at now.

“We’ll be there in about two hours. Be ready with a few tanks of gasoline.”

It won’t take much to burn this place down, but we need to make sure the bodies are unrecognizable. “Will do.”

“Rafaele.” It’s Giorgio again.

“Yeah?”

“No one but us can know about this,” Giorgio says. “Not even the women. The more people who know, the bigger the risk. Nero and Sandro can never come back.”

I swallow. “I know.” The rest of the world must think I killed my consigliere. They must believe it. I hang up and turn to Nero and Sandro.

“Rafe, what the fuck are you planning?” Nero growls.

“You’re going to disappear. Both of you.”

Nero narrows his eyes. “What does that mean?”

I bring him and Sandro up to speed, and when I finish, Nero’s glowering at me.

“I’d rather die like a consigliere than be sent away to some shithole where I’m a nobody.”

“You won’t be a nobody to Sandro.”