Bastiano Romano: A Standalone Mafia Romance Novel (The Five Syndicates Book 4) by Parker S. Huntington (35)

Most people thought right and wrong was black and white.

I knew better.

While the guppies who sat behind a bureau desk all day insisted there was a clear line between right and wrong, I begged to differ. The line was jagged. Curved. It went left when you thought it’d go right, and right when you thought it’d go left. There was no keeping up with it, and the only thing you could do was hope you were doing the right thing.

Being with Bastian—choosing Bastian—felt like the truest decision I would ever make.

I doubted anyone in this office would see it this way. I’d been called in. Not a recall and extraction, but called to a covert meeting regardless. I didn’t know for certain, but I suspected Jenn had told Wilks about our last meeting.

Wilks patted my shoulder as I passed him and took a seat. The warehouse we stood in was empty with just a table in the center and a lone bulb hanging overhead. I saw Jenn, Simmons, and two analysts at the table.

None of them looked pleased to see me.

The coffee Jenn handed me tasted bitter as I brought it to my lips for something to do, struggled with its heat, then set it down. “You all look happy.”

Wilks took a seat at the head of the table. “We know Vincent Romano has died. We also know his body is being flown in to New York, accompanied by Andretti royalty to signify the end of their blood war.

I didn’t know how he knew—probably a mole or another agent undercover—but he didn’t single out a source of information, which meant he was covering me because this was information we both knew I should have passed along to him.

“The bureau has approved a limited release deal with a low-risk prisoner to, frankly, stir chaos and see what sticks.”

Stir chaos.

On a family that had just lost one of their beloved.

I hated this job.

Simmons shut the file he’d had open. “Monica?”

Wilks nodded.

I shot forward, grasping for any excuse to stop this. “She’s not mafia affiliated.”

An unpredictable snake unworthy of two dimes to rub together would have been a more accurate description. Monica had betrayed Asher, helped a hit team break into his penthouse, and sabotaged Lucy and Asher’s relationship from the start.

Wilks cocked his head and gave me one of his soul-searching stares. “She was Asher Black’s assistant.”

“Yeah. Assistant to the CEO. As in, a legal business we’ve never been able to connect to the mafia.”

“Do you have a problem with this, De Luca?”

I held back a wince at the last name and shot up from my seat. “It’s unethical.”

“Which part? The number of lives that have been lost to the Romanos? The drugs they push into the streets? The number of lives that will be saved?”

They’d been shifting from the illegal businesses to the legal ones. The drugs had been reduced drastically in the past decade—not because we were good at our jobs but because they had changed. Of course, I couldn’t say that. Siding with the Romano family was tantamount to admitting I’d gone too far undercover.

I gentled my voice and tried to keep it casual. “All of that, and the part where we stoop as low as them. That woman hurt an innocent kid.”

“If you’re talking about Lucy Black, she’s hardly a kid, and she’s not so innocent.”

“Because she married Asher Black? She’s just a college student.”

And someone I’d met, knew was kind, and couldn’t stomach hurting. Monica had physically endangered Lucy and Asher. It was why she was in jail. She’d let a hit squad into their building less than a year ago.

Wilks barked out a laugh. “You trying to tell me she didn’t know what she married into? The girl’s twenty not twelve, and she’s pursuing an Ivy League degree. Don’t bother, De Luca. This conversation is done.”

I sighed, sitting down to ease my approach. “This is a woman who does not deserve to be free, and we don’t know if she’ll do anything to help us, but what we know is she has never had anything to do with the Romano family.”

“We don’t need any of her knowledge, kid. We just need the chaos her presence will bring to shake things up during a time where they’re vulnerable, so they make mistakes. That’s all.”

That was all?

They hadn’t seen Bastian last night.

Or the night before.

Or the night before that.

They hadn’t seen Lucy, Asher, Niccolaio, Tessie, and Gio. Real people in real pain. Tessie had barely eaten since Gio and Asher broke the news to her, and it was a struggle to get her to keep anything down. She was eight years old. Eight. And that was part of the vulnerability Wilks wanted to exploit.

Bastian had invited me to the funeral. I planned on going, of course, but the bureau didn’t know that. What Wilks knew was, I was an illegitimate De Luca princess, and my half-brother Damian would be there.

Damian didn’t know I existed. Being at the funeral could change that. I’d already planned on going for Bastian, but I needed to know if the bureau would make me.

My eyes studied each and every one of them as I said, “I was invited to the Romano funeral. It’s dangerous. Every American and international Made Man with any lick of power will be there. I’m not going.”

“You have to.” The answer came from Jenn. No hesitation. No pause. Just an instant answer.

Simmons nodded. “A great opportunity you’d be stupid to pass up on.”

The two analysts shook their heads in agreement.

Wilks ran a hand along his jaw, and I waited for his answer with bated breath. He was the one who knew how truly dangerous this would be. Jenn only knew I was a De Luca. She didn’t know I was the daughter of their last boss.

Wilks nodded. “You need to go.”

The coffin of my heart shut—sealed and padlocked—and I knew irrevocably that I would never return to the bureau. Never.

I nodded. “I’ll go.” Sliding back the chair, I slid my jacket on and addressed everyone. “I have to go. Funeral arrangements.”

Halfway to the door, I heard footsteps chasing me and paused as they caught up. I turned to face Jenn. She looked so different in the dim light. Or maybe she’d changed so much these past few months, I hardly recognized her. She felt like a stranger.

Or maybe it’s you who’s changed.

When Jenn opened her mouth, I braced myself for her words. “I see that look in your eyes Ariana. You care about them. You’re in too deep. You’re questioning everything you’ve been taught and all your morals. You’re going to spiral, Ari. I’ve seen it happen to dozens of agents before you. There’s that look they all get in their eyes when they question the point of all this, and you have it.” She placed a hand on my wrist. “You need to remember what side you’re on. You need to remember the greater good.”

I faked a smile and wrapped my arms around her in a hug. Probably the last hug I’d ever give her.

There was no greater good.

They worst part of lying to someone who is worth the truth isn’t the guilt. It’s the knowledge—the bone-deep premonition—the lies will cost me everything.

Before the funeral, I shared a car ride alone with Bastian. My last opportunity to come clean before I met my brother for the first time. I could tell him about my cover. I could tell him I was Angelo De Luca’s secret daughter.

I didn’t.

I had too much to lose.

Fear led my path to destruction.

We were here, we were in love, and it wasn’t enough.

Bastian pressed a kiss to my temple after he helped me out of the car. “I have to give a speech. Tessie will find you and sit next to you. Will you be okay?”

I nodded as we stepped inside the church together for the viewing. “I’ll be fine. Don’t even worry about me.”

I watched as he made his way to the first pew, in front of Vince’s open casket. He’d been killed by a single bullet to the heart. An instant, painless death. A mercy killing, Bastian had explained to me, like there was some mafia code of conduct.

My pulse sped up as he left, leaving me alone with the wolves. I’d never met my half-brother before, but I’d stared at his thin file more often than I should have. He’d dethroned Angelo De Luca, our father, and taken over the De Luca syndicate. From what I’d read, he’d done a good job. Which probably meant he was ruthless.

I had to force my shoulders back and my head high as I took a seat at a pew. Damiano De Luca took a seat beside me, leaving one seat between us. His posture was casual, but I knew he’d taken this seat on purpose. It just couldn’t be a coincidence.

Counting down from ten to ease my nerves, I tried to stop my fidgeting. He stayed silent for a moment as my discomfort heightened by the millisecond. The wooden pillar dug into my thighs, and I forced myself into focusing on that irritant and not the one beside me.

“Am I bothering you?” he finally asked. He sounded polite and well-mannered. A wolf capable of disguising himself as a lamb.

Gio stood at the podium giving a eulogy for Vince, but I couldn’t pay attention to it.

I tried to keep my voice calm and polite but closed off to more conversation as I murmured, “No.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw his lips twitch. Like he was working to suppress a smirk. At a funeral. I took in his features. They were more Italian than mine. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Tanned skin. Expensive haircut and the face structure of an aquiline Roman statue. A viper.

In this lighting, my hair looked dark today, too. No honey in it’s brown at the moment. Maybe it was just how drab I felt. Tessie ran to our pew, scrambled over a few laps, and took the empty seat between us.

Damian, in a move that made him actually look human, sent Tessie a small smile. “Ciao, piccola. Come ti senti?”

Italian. I didn’t speak it, and not knowing what he had said had my alarm bells ringing. He continued in Italian, each word spiking my pulse.

Tessie turned to him. “Grazie, Damiano.”

They knew each other. At least it sounded like they did. It also sounded like she was comfortable around him, so I tried to relax but couldn’t. My spine remained stiff as a smile eclipsed Tessie’s face, and she waved to a brunette as she walked past.

It was the first time I’d seen Tessie smile in a while. Go figure it’d be to someone who made Damian freeze like he’d seen a truck barreling his way and couldn’t bring his legs to move. The brunette with the amber eyes and bare face looked comfortable here. In her element. A cascade of dark waves, lips a natural red, and a fitted black dress to compliment her curves.

She returned Tessie’s smile. “Tessie, I’ve missed you.” Her smile flattened as her eyes shifted to Damian. “D.”

I’d never heard a nickname spoken with so much condescension. Shock ripped through me at her clear disrespect for a syndicate boss. I wondered what it felt like to have that much confidence. Or perhaps she was comfortable with Damian. It struck me as a little bit of both.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched Damian extricate himself from his seat and say goodbye to Tessie, completing forgetting me. When they both left through a side door, I relaxed in my seat, forgotten but safe.

“Who was that?” I whispered to Tessie as Bastian took his place at the podium, and my heart squeezed for him.

“Damiano De Luca. He’s funny. I like him.”

“And the woman?”

“Renata Vitali. She’s so cool. I heard she has a real-life unicorn.”

Renata Vitali. She probably didn’t have a unicorn, but if anyone could find one, it’d be her, considering she was practically one herself. There’d been no pictures of her past the age of fifteen. It was like she’d disappeared from the planet.

She’d come from the Vitali family, mafia royalty that operated out of Italy, yet she had no Italian accent. She also looked as well-kept and flawless as I expected a mafia princess to look. No surprise there.

What did surprise me was Damian’s reaction to her.

I hoped she kept him distracted all weekend because his interest in me reeked of danger.