Not Mine to Keep: Chapter 12

The bastard was at the head of his twenty-person table when we entered the dining room. Alessandro and Gabriel had me wedged protectively between them, and we hung back at the other side of the table. I assumed Gabriel was waiting for some cue from Armani to speak.

Armani set aside the book he’d been reading, and for some reason it irritated me he was a reader, because I didn’t want to like anything about him. He removed his dark-rimmed glasses and looked up at us.

How had my mother fallen for that man? Not that he was unattractive. More like a sixty-five-year-old Joe Mantegna from the movie The Godfather III and that Criminal Minds show. But he was evil, and she’d been a young musician, living her dream before he’d entrapped her in his world for decades.

Armani adjusted the knot of his red tie as his dark eyes swept over my dress, and I’d swear he had a similar reaction as Alessandro had minutes ago. There was a definite what-the-fuck look in his eyes.

Armani snapped his fingers and flicked his wrist. “Someone get my daughter something to cover up with before I have to cut your eyes out for staring at her.”

“One thing we agree on,” Alessandro said, ice in his tone as he broke his silence for the first time. At the offering of a throw blanket from Leo, Alessandro visibly relaxed once my upper half was covered.

Now I understood Rosa’s reasoning for choosing such a sexy dress, knowing it’d make both Alessandro and Armani snap. Show Armani that Alessandro was as protective of me as the bastard felt he had a right to be.

Well played, Rosa. Well played.

“Costa,” Armani bit out, hands on the table while standing to his height of six-three. “Gabriel tells me you wish to marry my daughter?”

Hardly. But what choice do we have, you prick? Not that I could voice my thoughts. I also had to remember to check my sass. I couldn’t let Aunt Tia die because of my runaway tongue.

Alessandro kept quiet, and I realized why. Marcello, Armani’s second-in-command, had appeared in the doorway behind where Armani stood. He casually thumbed down the black collar of his starched shirt as he looked at me wrapped up in a blanket like a child. There was a darkness about him that managed to give Armani a run for his money.

He peered at Alessandro. “You shouldn’t be here.” Cold eyes cut to Gabriel as his next target. “And your throat should be slit for going behind our backs to seek the help of a Costa.”

“He’s my consigliere for a reason,” Armani said, defending Gabriel. “He always has the organization’s best interest at heart.” Lifting his hands from the table, he pushed them into his pockets and faced Marcello.

“I’m not the one who was being groomed to take over before Mr. DiMaggio found out about his daughter, and now you’ve lost your shot at running the empire,” Gabriel said, his tone much lower than I’d ever heard before. “Of course he’d come to me for advice instead of you.”

Marcello’s dark eyes snapped Gabriel’s way like he’d been challenged to something. Pistols at dawn. I’d swear I’d fallen down the rabbit hole and wound up in Hades instead of Wonderland.

“Calliope would be dead if not for Gabriel’s decision to send Costa to Nashville, and you’d be back in line to take over the business.” Armani quietly studied his second-in-command.

“Maybe you were part of the plan to have Calliope killed?” Gabriel suggested.

At the sight of Gabriel drawing a weapon, Alessandro pulled me farther away from the scene, drawing me tighter against him.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Marcello kept his hands in view, not going for a gun like Gabriel had. “I’m loyal to you, Armani. To the bloodline.”

Gabriel rested his gun against his thigh. “You’re loyal to power and money.”

“This is madness.” Marcello focused on Armani. “You can’t seriously think I’d sell you out to the Espositos and betray you.” He fixed the cuffs of his jacket, seemingly not worried about being shot. “Gabriel wants your daughter to marry a Costa. Alessandro’s father was League. The Costas helped take down the Sicilian mafia division in New York just last year. Are you—?” He cut himself off before insulting his boss.

Too bad. Marcello was one man I wouldn’t mind watching Armani kill. Thank God the man was married and Armani didn’t believe in divorce, or I was pretty sure he would’ve forced me to marry his second-in-command.

“The Costas’ relationship with The League will play into our favor,” Gabriel said with the kind of conviction even I could feel. “An enemy of our enemy is our friend.”

I still needed to get the bullet points on The League and who the hell they were, but now I knew Alessandro’s father had a connection to them.

“The League broke their truce with The Alliance, or have you forgotten?” Marcello scowled.

Alessandro seemed content to let the three of them go back and forth without getting involved yet, and considering he had Gabriel fighting his war for him right now, it was probably the smart play.

“The Alliance killed my brother. My nephew.” Armani’s words had Marcello’s attention. “Or have you forgotten?” He paused for a moment. “And it was The Alliance that first violated the pact with The League, prompting war between the two.”

“I’m prepared to speak on The League’s behalf today and offer your organization the same deal they had with The Alliance,” Alessandro finally said, catching me off guard. “If you don’t break the deal, there will be peace. Your people can stop looking over your shoulder and worrying about them coming after you.”

“Why you?” Armani slapped his hands to the table. “Why would you want this?”

“Non c’è luce senza oscurità.” My knees about buckled at Alessandro throwing Armani’s words to me back at him. “There will always be evil in this world. Corruption and crime. With The Alliance gone, someone will attempt to fill their spot. You’re the lesser of two evils.”

Damn that phrase.

“We’d rather it be someone we know at the least has a moral code.” Alessandro let go of me to lift his palms in the air as if offering a truce. “If you force your daughter to marry a monster, then you’re turning your back on your family’s legacy.”

“But why you, in particular? I did my research. You’re not the marrying type.” Yeah, it wouldn’t have taken Armani much googling to draw the same conclusion I had Saturday night, based on there always being a different woman on Alessandro’s arm in photos. “Gabriel tells me you owe him your life, but I find it hard to believe a man like you would marry into the mafia to cancel out a debt.”

I peeked at Alessandro, and his jaw was locked tight as he stared back from across the room.

“As for me marrying your daughter”—he turned to find my eyes—“it’d be a business deal, and we all benefit from the arrangement.” His tanned throat moved with a deep swallow before he focused back on Armani. “I don’t need your money or your power. Consider me the sacrificial lamb. I’m being offered as a gesture of good faith. The League will only make this deal if someone they trust is within your organization, and you’ll know that they’d never break their side of the pact if I’m here as well.”

Sacrificial lamb? My stomach turned, hating I had to be quiet about my own life. But I had to keep my aunt safe.

“But do you want to marry her?” Why did Armani care? It wasn’t like he was asking me the same freaking question. The asshole.

“Yes,” Alessandro bit out, his arm going behind my back again, and it was the first time Armani left the head of the table to approach us. He walked by Gabriel, who still had his gun in his hand as if itching to take out Marcello.

Standing face-to-face with Alessandro, Armani narrowed his eyes. “Then take out the head of the Esposito family, as well as his right-hand man, and I will consider you as an option.”

“Consider it done,” Alessandro responded without hesitating.

“Tomorrow night, Esposito’s wife turns forty. He’s throwing her a surprise party. Do it there. Be sure his wife is the one to find her husband’s dead body, too.” Armani took a step back, his gaze sliding over me. “After that, we shall talk. And I’ll need reassurances from Emilia Calibrisi of the Italian League that she’s on board with the deal.”

“What about me? Do I get a say in any of this?” Shit, I’d been doing so good at keeping quiet.

“My guess is Gabriel, who clearly has a soft spot for you, especially since he went to his old friend to marry you instead of the suitor Marcello recommended . . . has already told you that your options are limited.” He reached for me as if about to cup my cheek, and I flinched and startled back.

“My aunt Tia, is she okay?”

Armani lowered his hand. “From what my man says who followed her, she’s having the time of her life on her cruise. She’ll stay unaware of your situation if you do as I ask.”

“Wouldn’t hurting her break your moral code?” I doubted I could reason with him, but I had to try.

“In life, there are unfortunate accidents. She just might fall off the ship. Or the brakes might stop working in her car.” He kept his dark eyes locked on me. “Do you understand?”

I forcibly nodded, doing my best not to snap and hit the bastard. But knowing him, he’d like it. He’d say that was the darkness inside me trying to break free.

“You have a plane to catch, Alessandro. A plan to put together,” Armani said casually.

“I’m not leaving her here alone.” Alessandro’s hand left my waist so he could link our palms together. I gulped and looked down at him holding my hand, feeling something akin to comfort from his touch despite where we were.

The hand-holding even caught Armani’s eyes. “She’s safe here. And not safe anywhere near the Espositos in Rome.”

Alessandro kept hold of me, peering at Marcello as he stated, “I won’t leave as long as he shares a roof with her. He has the most to gain from her death, more so than Esposito.”

“I’ll cut your tongue out for that,” Marcello warned.

“I’d like to see you try,” Alessandro snapped out. When Marcello started our way, Gabriel blocked his path.

“Marcello will leave when you do,” Armani announced, and when Marcello began hissing something in Italian, Armani turned his attention toward him, motioning to the other guards, who’d previously been shadowy protectors hanging back quietly in the room.

“You can’t be serious.” Marcello looked around Gabriel, meeting my eyes. “They’re the ones trying to deceive you. You shouldn’t trust them. Any of them.” He switched to Italian, then turned and left, taking most of the negative, bad energy with him.

Once Marcello was gone from sight, two guards following him out at Armani’s directive, Alessandro remarked, “You’re making the right decision.”

“I guess we’ll soon find out.” Armani gave me one quick look, then gestured for Alessandro to get going.

Alessandro kept hold of my hand, and we walked through the maze of halls to get outside. Gabriel hung back behind us like a safety net, and only once we were by one of the parked Escalades did Alessandro let go of my hand. “I hate to leave you.”

“You don’t have a choice. My aunt’s life is on the line now.”

“I programmed my number in your phone.” Alessandro frowned. “Check in with me, okay?”

“When did you do that?” I arched a brow, trying to remember a point where he’d had access to my phone.

“On the plane when you were in the bedroom, tossing and turning.”

I thought about asking him how he also knew I hadn’t slept a wink but instead went with, “And how’d you know my password?”

“Your birthday.” He shook his head. “You should change it. Too obvious.” He looked over at Gabriel, who was near the front of the house, then faced me again.

“This isn’t how I thought things would go in there, but it, um, went okay, right? He’s giving you a chance. Trusting Gabriel over that asshole Marcello,” I admitted, trying to refocus. “But you still have to kill for me, and I feel sick about that.”

“Lesser of two evils,” he reminded me. “No choice. Let’s just hope he continues to believe a deal with The League is better than one with the Barone family.”

Clutching the blanket to my chest, grateful for it given the chills whipping up my spine, I murmured, “I guess I’ll be asking Gabriel to clue me in on this mystery group while you’re gone.”

“Maybe stay in your bedroom as much as possible? I’ll be back tomorrow night after it’s done.”

After it’s done? How was he talking about killing a man at his wife’s birthday party so casually? But it was to save me. Save Tia. So yeah, lesser of two evils. “I should be the one telling you to be safe.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” He reached out as if to run his fingers through my hair and offer me reassurances, but then hesitated and lowered his arm to his side. “If for some reason something happens to me, my family will come for you. They’ll protect you if I can’t.”

I lost hold of the blanket at his words, and he snatched it as fast as he’d done with the towel yesterday in my bedroom. “Wait, what?”

He wrapped it back around my body, drawing himself close in the process. “Don’t worry; if you have to marry Hudson or Constantine instead of me, they’ll take good care of you.”

But the way his brows slanted and his eyes narrowed told me that idea pained him to even say.

“Don’t,” I cried out.

With the blanket covering me again, he asked with a confused look, “Don’t what?”

I squeezed my eyes closed. “Die on me.”