"I want you to know that you're safe here. I know it might not look it—I made sure it didn't when I installed everything during the remodel—but we've always been surrounded by my men while we're here. And the little garage that used to be out there that your father used as a tool shed, if I remember correctly? Well, that's not a guest cottage. It's an armory. My best men are patrolling the perimeter of the property, and I have every type of the best possible security systems known to man."
There was a reason why he'd been keeping such a close eye on her—not that he hadn't always, but he'd upped her surveillance quite a bit lately, and it was because of one man, and also—besides the fact that he always followed through on a promise—that he'd confronted her about the men who had breached the peace with him and had started to do business where it had long since been agreed that they shouldn't.
He sighed heavily at her confused look, and then decided to just come out with it. "I'm afraid that I've uncovered a bit of a mutiny within your organization."
She froze. She'd been trying to prepare herself for the goodbye speech she pretty much always expected from him, but this—this was a very close second as far as painful, if it was true. "What? What do you mean?" And, on second thought, almost more importantly, "How—how would you know that?"
Enzo came to stand in front of her. "I know, because Frank Antonelli made overtures to other bosses—myself included, before we became involved—promising that he could run the family—for me—better than you can and promising to relieve you of your command." He wasn't about to tell her the disgusting details of what he'd said, which had him itching to beat the man into a pulp where he stood. But he hadn't wanted to cut off the head of the snake and leave the rest of it to foul her organization. He wanted to get not only Frankie, but everyone else who had betrayed Ally. They all had to be rooted out. And he was afraid the reality was that it wasn't going to leave her with much of a crew.
Ally snorted. "Because he's a man, no doubt."
"Yeah, that was the gist of it. He was looking to off you any way he could, which is why you're here, instead of with your friends. He got wind of the fact that we were on to him, and he's disappeared. And I'm afraid our relationship didn't earn you any points in his book, either. It probably stepped up his plans, frankly."
She slid down onto one of the snack bar chairs, her head in her hands. She couldn't believe that Frank had betrayed her. He had been with her father since the beginning, and he was one of the few people he had said she could always trust. Frank, even more so than she, she had to admit finally, was the glue that had held the family together. He had the continuity that she lacked, to say nothing of the fact that she was a woman trying to play a man's game.
"I should be with my crew," she said, heading for the door.
Enzo stopped her simply by standing in front of her. "I'm afraid that the majority of them followed Frankie. My men are looking for them, too."
So, it was over. It was really and truly over. Ally backed away from him, finally bumping up against the chair she'd just vacated and sitting down heavily. She'd lost the legacy her father had tried to leave her, that she had fought so hard to maintain over the past years, sacrificing a tremendous amount of her life to making sure that everything was running smoothly for everyone—but herself.
In a way, she could almost see Frank's point, although she couldn't agree with it. And she'd bet that Enzo was right—Frank had definitely been threatened by her cozying up to him. It must've made him feel that, after all those years, he was going to be pushed aside in favor of someone Enzo chose. Christ, he probably resented the fact that her father had chosen to groom her the last months he was alive rather than turning the family over to Frank.
Regardless, she should have seen the signs. She should have seen this coming.
Enzo couldn't bear to see her cry. He had known about the situation for a while and had already come to grips with it, and if—when—he got his hands on Frankie, the man would become one sorry son of a bitch very quickly. But, since she was in danger, he'd put out the word that he didn't care whether he was dead or alive, as long as someone got him. In his younger days, he would have been the first one out there looking for the scumbag. But he knew now that there were much more important things for him to do as he gathered Ally into his arms and held her close while she sobbed, transferring the two of them to his big bed and tenderly undressing her.
He even relented on his nudity rule for her, recognizing that she needed comfort now, and put her into a pair of her favorite pajamas, himself, tamping down his own desires with only modest results. Really, she could be wearing a paper sack for all he cared—his body wanted her regardless of whatever wrapper she came in. He cradled her to him, trying not to let her feel his rampant erection that was pretty much ever present
