Stephan

The past week was a fucking disaster. I’d waited far too long before I sent Isabella a text message. It was lame. She deserved so much more from a man than a stupid text. I knew when I followed her up to her suite that I could never give her what she needed. But I was selfish and took her anyway. Things had changed so much since high school. I wasn’t the same person. Neither was she. Our circumstances were different.

Nino gripped the wheel in his hands and tugged hard as he turned around the corner.

“Would you slow down?” I yelled at him. “You’re supposed to tail that car, not ride up his ass. Who the hell taught you how to follow someone?”

He ran a hand through his dark, messy hair and put it back on the steering wheel. “I’m tired. We haven’t slept in days. I need a hot shower. Can’t someone else do this for us?”

“No,” I growled. “Keep your eyes on the road and fall back before they notice we’re behind them.”

I was exhausted and frustrated, sick of chasing after Chris Rizzoli. Joe had lied about the location of his cousin. Nino and I were running around New York in search of Chris, like two goons who had nothing better to do.

With my cell phone in hand, I waited for Isabella to text back. I was expecting a quick reply, but she surprised me by sending a selfie. She had her white dress shirt open, revealing a red, lacy bra that pushed up her tits. They were full and popping out from the top of the fabric, and for a second, I closed my eyes so I could remember how good she felt in my hands.

Me: You’re killing me, you know that?

My cock was growing hard the longer I stared at her picture.

Isabella: Next time you don’t have to go slow.

I balled my hand into a fist and bit down on it, staring away from the screen and out the window. It was like she was challenging me to fuck her. She knew our night together was a one-time thing. I had no plans of going easy on her after the first time. Even though I had to keep my head in the game and focus on finding Chris, I couldn’t think of anything other than filling Isabella’s tight pussy.

Me: Who said there’s going to be next time?

I laughed to myself and Nino noticed. “Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” I shot back.

“It’s Isabella, isn’t it?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “How did you know?”

“You followed her out of the ballroom the other night. Then, you two came back within minutes of each other, and then you disappeared again. You’re lucky Dad and Alessio didn’t notice.”

“I don’t care what they have to say about it.”

“Whatever Pops has going on with the Senator might be on the down low, but that doesn’t mean you can do the same with his daughter. Remember what happened to her in high school after you were with her? I heard Alessio and Dad talking one night. The Senator has something on him, something big. That’s the reason we still help out their family.”

“I know. But what does he have on us?”

He slid his hand along the steering wheel, coming to a stop at the light. “Beats me. Whatever it is must be good enough for them to have still remained in contact after all these years.”

My cell phone rang again, but this time it was a message from Paul Basile, one of my father’s oldest friends and his trusted advisor.

It was a tip from one of our associates about Chris Rizzoli and his new crew being on the move again. No one had seen or heard from any of his guys in almost two days. Our lead ran dry the night we went on a fool’s mission to find him. But his cousin Joe paid the ultimate price for the betrayal.

Without eyes on Chris and the men who were dumb enough to follow him, the threat was always there. We had no way of planning our attack. So, we had to sit and wait, keeping up our guard until they were dumb enough to resurface. Luckily, they did.

“Make a left up here.” I pointed in the direction. “Paulie just sent me the location of where Chris and his men are supposed to be hiding out.”

He nodded, and I typed a quick reply to Paulie to let him know we were on it.

We drove for another thirty minutes before the GPS alerted us we were there. Nino parked two blocks down from the house, creating enough of a distance for us to check out our surroundings. The street was covered in overhanging trees, the leaves cloaked us in darkness.

I leaned back against the leather seat and removed the gun from my waist. “We can’t go in there and try to fight them head-on. Park the next block over, and we’ll hit them from the back.”

He shifted the car into gear and did as I asked. “I hope he’s here this time. I need sleep.”

“Me, too.”

We got out of the car and crossed the street to get a better look. Not a soul was in sight. With my gun in hand, poised and ready to shoot, I crept down the intersecting street. Nino covered me from behind as we moved down the dark alleyway. We were a few houses from the location when I heard footsteps behind me, followed by a muffled sound.

When I spun around, I was surprised to find another man—a man who wasn’t Nino. A muscular guy around my father’s age had Nino pressed up against the fence of a neighbor’s backyard. He held a knife to his throat, staring at me, awaiting my next move. I knew him. Carmine Gallo was a member of our organization for years. Up until that night, he was a loyal soldier, one who never met the full potential required to lead a crew.

I could have shot him in the head, but what if he slit my brother’s throat before his body hit the ground? That was a chance I wasn’t willing to take.

Carmine was wearing a black suit, his dark hair combed off his face. “Drop the gun, little DeLuca.”

I smirked. Who the fuck does he think he’s talking to?

With my gun aimed at his head, I slid my finger to the trigger. “Let my brother go.”

“We only want to talk. We’re not here to hurt you.”

“Who’s we?” I spat.

He tipped his head to the men I hadn’t seen until he pointed them out. They were a few houses back, one of them resting against a fence, the other lighting a cigarette. We were outnumbered and outgunned. Either I listened to what they had to say, or Nino and I would be leaving there in a body bag.

I lowered my gun at my side. “What do you want?”

“The fight between Chris and your old man started over Senator Parisi. Joe was exiled from the family, all because Parisi said he wanted him gone.”

“I had to pull Rizzoli off Isabella Parisi. He was slapping her around.”

“He wanted information from her,” he shot back, his voice raspy.

“Looked like more than that to me. I’d say he has a thing for Isabella, and no one is going to touch her.”

No one but me.

The corners of his mouth widened, turning up into a wicked grin. “You have no idea what’s going on. The old man doesn’t tell you anything, does he?”

“You got something to say? Spit it out already, and stop wasting my time.”

“Don’t look for Rizzoli. Stop involving yourself in shit that doesn’t concern you.”

I ground my teeth in anger, my right hand balled into a fist at my side, the other clutching the gun. “If it has to do with my family, then it concerns me.”

“Rizzoli knows something he shouldn’t. That’s why the Senator and your old man want him dead.”

I shrugged. “Why are you telling me this? You’re holding a knife to my brother’s neck, and for what? To relay a message? Spit it out already and let him go.”

The man I couldn’t see clearly from afar crushed the cigarette under his shoe and then stalked toward us, moving out of the shadows. Carmine glanced over his shoulder at him, and then he released his grip on Nino, pushing him toward me.

As he disappeared down the alleyway, Carmine said, “There’s a rat in the family, and the Parisis are behind all of this.”

I was so confused. What did the Parisis have to do with us? And why did Carmine or Chris Rizzoli think I was the key to helping them quash this beef?

Nino bent over to cough, clearing his throat, and then stood to meet my gaze. “I’m going home. I don’t give a shit what Dad says. I need food, a shower, and some sleep. Fuck this shit. The Parisis are not worth getting whacked over.”

“You won’t get an argument from me.” I inspected Nino’s face, my eyes traveling over the gash Carmine left behind. A sliver of blood ran down his neck, soaking into the collar of his white shirt.

My body grew tense from the sight. No girl was worth the life of my brother, no matter how good she tasted and how much I wanted to fuck her again. Isabella Parisi was dead to me. It was her family or mine, and I chose mine without even blinking.

Nino ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “We need to find out what Senator Parisi has on Dad.”

I hooked my arm around his back, even though he didn’t need me to hold him up, and we strolled down the alley together.

Could I trust the word of a man who held us at knifepoint? I didn’t trust anyone but Nino. We had a bond that no one could break. But I wondered if Carmine was on to something.

Were Isabella and her family the real enemy?