Merrick’s expression didn’t show an ounce of emotion as he said, “I hope you’re not lying to us, Robbie. I would hate to think you’re lying to us and you’re involved with The Son in some other capacity.”
“See,” Gary joined in, “right now, we somewhat trust you, Robbie. We trust that you are going to look for the box, if you haven’t already, and we trust that you are going to do everything you can to help us.”
“We’d hate to think you might be abusing that trust,” Merrick continued.
“I’m not,” I said, trying to reassure them. “Ciro stopped by for…sex last night. That’s all.”
“And if something untoward were to happen to you?” Gary asked. “Would The Son be making his presence known in Cedar Creek?”
I laughed.
It was a genuine, honest-to-God laugh.
My next words were the only absolute truth I’ve said to these men since they got here. “Do you honestly believe Ciro Mancini would bat an eyelash over random snatch?”
Merrick bristled, further mystifying me with his odd personality. “I don’t appreciate the reference in which you referred to yourself, Robbie.”
Gary shook his head and leaned back on the couch. “Yeah. Snatch. Such an ugly word.”
Honestly lined every word I said to them. “My apologies, this time,” I said, still reeling from their strange code of conduct. “But, trust me when I tell you, there’s no way Ciro Mancini would care if anything happened to me. First of all, how would he know? Second of all, just because the man might have enjoyed his time with me doesn’t mean he enjoys me.” There was so much truth to that statement, I knew they believed me, because I believed me. If the man cared one iota about me, in any real sense, he wouldn’t have walked out last night as if nothing happened. “No way will Ciro Mancini ever care what happens to me.”
Gary stood up, and Merrick quickly followed. Looking down at me, Gary said, “That’s good to know.”
“See you tomorrow, love,” Merrick said, throwing me a wink.
“Nice love bites, but the way,” Gary grinned on his way out.
Chapter 15
Ciro~
Luca’s place was classy as fuck, but it was a far cry from the Benetti home. Where Nix’s place was all sleek and utilitarian, Luca’s penthouse was dark, but surprisingly warm. Now, granted since Frankie’s been back, she’s added some feminine touches to their apartment, but I’ve always appreciated the way Luca’s place could make a person feel safe. It was an odd sentiment when Luca was a heartless bastard.
Sitting in the drawing room, we each had a drink in our hand, a cigarette in Phoenix’s other one. That was the one thing that Luca never minded, and I always wondered why. Not that I had anything against smokers, but Luca didn’t smoke. He didn’t even smoke cigars. Yet, he allowed Nix to smoke whenever he needed to. Of course, he was trying to kick the habit because he didn’t want to set that example for his future kids, but the man led a stressful life.
It was Monday evening, and we’d hit the end of our business day. It was the only time anyone would see Luca in anything other than a suit. In this case, we were still in our suits, sans the jackets. Luca’s white dress shirt was opened at the collar, tie gone, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows with is tattoos peeking out. Nix was pretty much dressed down the same way, but Phoenix wasn’t as tatted up as Luca was, and his suit pants were dark blue, not black.
I was still fully dressed in a charcoal grey suit, jacket, and tie still on.
“Sal stopped by last night,” Luca said, bringing us to the reason for his meeting.
“Yeah?” Nix replied. “And how is Sal?”
Luca was sitting in the lone brown leather recliner, though it wasn’t reclined, while Nix and I were occupying the matching couch on the right side of the room. The room was what you imagined it’d be, equipped with a bar and big screen T.V. It also came with a shelf that housed a variety of ashtrays for Nix.
Luca was a strange one.
“Still sick and twisted,” he answered smoothly.
“Thank God for that,” I mumbled. Sal was sketchy, but the man was good at his job. If it weren’t for the fact that Luca would put a bullet in his head, no questions asked, I always wondered if the middle Benetti would turn for the right price.
“What’d he have to say?” Nix asked.
“My age and marital status are a concern for the elders,” Luca replied. “Apparently, they’d feel more comfortable if I had a wife and existing heirs already.”
Nix chuckled. “Like true royalty.”
“So, those are their only concerns stopping them from fully converting from Gio?” I asked. “They’re concerned you’re too young and, if you die, the empire falls in Sal’s hands?”
“It’s not my age, per se,” he corrected. “If I were married, they wouldn’t care about my age. They’re worried a Benetti bastard might come out of the woodwork and try to claim the throne at a later date.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Nix grunted.
Luca took a drink of his bourbon with a grin. “Well, I’m not about to run out and get married just to appease some old traditionalists,” he stated. “I have nothing against marriage, but I’m not going to tie myself to a woman for life for anything other than absolute love and loyalty. I refuse to settle for less.”
“Amen,” Nix muttered as I sat dumbfounded. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard Luca talk about the possibly of romantic love as pertaining to his life.
I shook off my surprise. “So, what do we do now?” I asked. “If they won’t turn without your legacy reassurance, do we just kill them all and get it over with?”
Nix looked
