I take a sip. It’s good. Strong and bitter.
“You probably pieced it together by now that due to our families recently merging, Damiano now has a common business interest with Garzolo.”
Orrin nods. “I gathered that much from Kal.”
“Messero’s also involved.”
“That’s right. He’s engaged to that other Garzolo girl, isn’t he? What’s her name…Gia? I only saw her once in passing, but that’s a piece of ass you don’t forget, you know what I mean?”
I take a drag of my espresso to chase away the flare of displeasure. “Her name is Gemma. Anyway, I’m here to do our due diligence. We want to be sure our American friends have the capabilities required to move our product.”
“Very prudent.”
“If there’s any reason to doubt that they can, we want to be aware of it.”
Orrin’s eyes flash. “Are you worried about the Riccis? Like I said, they’re in shambles. They’ve lost too many guys to pose a serious threat, no matter how thirsty they are for revenge.”
“I got the sense Garzolo’s crew took a big hit as well.”
“They did. I think it’s why he operates differently these days.”
“Differently how?”
“He’s…” Orrin shrugs. “Cautious. Some are saying he’s getting old. He’s pulled back on some of the old routes.”
Interesting. “He’s scared of something? Or just low on manpower?”
Orrin puts his cup down and crosses his arms. “I don’t know the details. It’s not really in my purview. My guys don’t deal with his very much.”
“Can you find out more?”
Outside the cafe, a garbage truck passes. It’s snowing now.
“I could ask around. We’ve got a poker game coming up. Someone there might know more.”
“No one can know I’m asking.”
Orrin smirks. “I wasn’t born yesterday.” He leans over the table and meets my eye. “Now, tell me more about these counterfeits you Napoletani are so known for.”
A half hour later, I wrap up things with Orrin. The guy clearly wants a deal of his own with us, and I leave him thinking there is a good chance of it and drive back to the Garzolo residence. Gemma’s got some appointment at ten that I have to get her to.
After this meeting, I’m optimistic. Orrin seems like he knows his way around this place. He’s an outsider to the families, but he’s got a smooth tongue that’s gotten him into people’s good graces.
The fact that his crew earns the Messeros good money doesn’t hurt. He told me he pays them a protection fee to ensure no one tries to encroach on his crew’s territory.
What he said about Garzolo is interesting. When I had dinner with Stefano’s crew, they were all big talk about their business. There wasn’t a single hint about their apparently diminishing ambitions. I saw a table full of hungry men.
If Garzolo’s really shrinking his operations, his crew can’t be happy. They’ve got to eat. So they’re either all excellent actors, or there’s a damn good reason behind it.
I need to find out what it is.
I park at the house and type out a vague message to Dem to let him know I’ve got a lead. It feels good to have something this quickly. I toss my phone onto the center console and let out a relieved breath.
Tap tap.
I glance sideways to see Gemma standing on the other side of the car, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. When I unlock the door, she hops in. She’s wearing the puffiest winter coat I’ve ever seen over a pair of leggings and a sports bra. My gaze drops to her toned stomach and heat rushes straight down to my groin.
Cazzo.
I rack my brain for where we’re going as I try to ignore the heady feminine scent that fills the car.
Oh, right. Pilates.
“Ready?”
“Yep.”
I flex my hands around the wheel and pull out of the driveway.
Why did I tell her about Nunzio yesterday? It’s not a story I’ve shared with many people, but when she asked me about my name, something compelled me to tell her the truth.
“Tell me you killed him.”
My gut tightens. She said it with an undercurrent of fury, like she cared.
Or maybe that’s just my mind imagining things. Seeing things it wants to see.
Does she feel this connection between us? It’s always been there. Yes, from that very first fucking day when she bit me, and I don’t care if she insists otherwise.
In Ibiza, that connection is what allowed her to be so fucking unhinged around me.
You said it yourself. She was just taking her anger out on you.
Maybe at first, but not afterwards. Not in my apartment. Definitely not at that department store.
And not now, when she’s looking at me with those beautiful gray eyes like she’s trying to figure me out.
I’m trying to figure her out too.
There’s a fire that burns inside of her, but I suspect her family has spent her entire life trying to stomp it out.
To make her compliant.
To make her obey.
It’s clear they have her under their control. She cowers around her parents in a way she’s never cowered around me.
What is she afraid of?
Perhaps it’s not fear that motivates her. Perhaps it’s a sense of obligation that her parents have spent a lifetime instilling.
“What would happen if you don’t marry Messero?” I ask, trying to test out my theory.
Her gaze flickers with apprehension. “Why?”
“Back in Ibiza, you said to Vale it’s critical to the survival of your family.”
She shifts in her seat. “We already talked about this, didn’t we? It’s what Papà told me. He said the union with the Messeros will strengthen our reputation after the mess with the Riccis. When everything was going down with them, things got bad for a while.”
“How bad?”
“They killed a bunch of our men.” She looks out the window before she says the next thing. “Our uncles. Our cousins.”
“Vale doesn’t talk about it much.”
“She wasn’t here for it, was she?” Some sharpness slips into her tone. “It accelerated after she ran.”
I frown. Did that cause Gemma to internalize a certain lesson about what happens when you go against your family? Is that why she argued so adamantly with Vale when Vale just floated the idea of breaking off the engagement to Messero?
No wonder Garzolo didn’t have to say much to convince her this marriage is nonnegotiable. She’d been primed for it.
When rationalizing this marriage, Gemma always talks about other people. What they want. What they need. But what about her own needs? Does she even know what they are? Or has she spent her whole life learning how to repress them?
I swallow past the unpleasant taste inside my mouth. This is fucked up. Garzolo is putting the responsibility of his whole family on Gemma’s shoulders. That burden should be Garzolo’s to carry, not hers.
We come to a stoplight, and she glances at me. “If my marriage can help ensure that never happens again, it’s a bargain, don’t you think?”
“You really think it’ll be enough? In your father’s line of work, peace doesn’t last.”