Enforcer’s Obsession

Chapter 11

ELEVEN

Nico

As I drove toward the meeting, I knew I was in my element.

I couldn’t even imagine Don Carlo handling this kind of meeting anymore, but I was knew I was up to the task.

The Genovese did too, since they’d no doubt found pieces of their men scattered around the city by now.

They’d be pissed but would have no doubt that the Morettis were not to be fucked with.

“Do you have a reservation, sir?” the ma?tre d’ asked when Enzo and I approached the restaurant.

“He’s with us. I’ll take him to our table,” a man who was standing in a suit near the ma?tre d’s stand said.

The untrained eye would think he was a doorman, maybe security, but I knew exactly who and what he was. The Genevose main enforcer, a man would kill every man, woman, and child in this restaurant and not lose a moment’s sleep.

He looked at me and lifted an arm, then gestured toward two dark wood-paneled doors.

I walked in front of him, not liking to put my back to anybody, but having a point to prove.

Both Enzo and I knew this was just a show. Federico’s way of flaunting his power.

I let him have it, secure in the fact that it was the last fucking thing he was going to get from me.

“That way,” the enforcer said.

I started to walk, paying no attention to the patrons enjoying their midmorning meal.

No, I was laser focused on the two dark wood double doors at the end of the hallway.

By the time I reached them, I was completely in the zone and ready to play this out.

Federico was sitting behind a huge round table, his pale gray suit and cream tie pristine on this thin, almost gaunt figure. “Nico. Sit.”

I fucking hated being told what to do, but I complied because I knew this game.

Federico was hoping to goad me into acting irrationally.

The way he spoken to me, even summoning me for this fucking meeting, was all a part of that. But I’d keep the reins on my emotions, even though I’d love nothing more than to drown the smug bastard in the broccoli soup in front of him.

“I started without you,” he said, nodding at his plate.

“Well, you are a growing boy,” I said.

“I wish,” he said on a laugh that seemed incongruently hardy for his small frame.

It was funny, but I couldn’t remember a time that I’d encountered Federico that he hadn’t been eating, and I’d decided it was a nervous tick.

He was new to leadership, having stepped in a year ago after his uncle died without a son to take over the family.

There had been a brief but very, very ugly power struggle, and Federico had come out on top. Now he needed to expand to cement his leadership.

“Did you receive my gift?” I asked as he lifted the spoon into his mouth.

Federico let his spoon clank into the bowl without drinking the soup, then met my eyes.

The sound of the silver hitting the delicate porcelain still rang in the room, making the moment seem to stretch that much longer.

Then, finally, the little weasel smiled.

“Who wraps a head in wrapping paper you fucking sicko?” he said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I responded.

He looked offended. “My place isn’t fucking bugged, Nico,” he said.

“Good to know, but I still have no idea what you’re talking about,” I responded.

He smiled. I stared.

“You’re going to pretend that wasn’t your handiwork? You do have quite the reputation, and those…gifts sound exactly like the sort of thing you’d do,” he said.

“What reason would I possibly have to do such a thing?” I said. “Not that I ever would.”

“There’s a rumor going around that your little club got shot up last night, so I could see sending those heads as retaliation,” he said.

“Which presumes that I have something to retaliate for,” I countered.

“Maybe you do. I don’t concern myself with your family’s affairs. Only mine,” he said.

He took another bite of his broccoli soup and then pushed the bowl away.

He was leaning back in his chair, his suit jacket and shirt hanging on his thin frame.

“You know I only look after mine, which makes the loss of those four men that much more of a problem,” he said.

“A problem for whom?” I asked.

“For me. And for you,” he said.

“What the fuck does that mean, Federico?” I didn’t yell but made it clear that my patience was running thin.

“You plead ignorance, but the bottom line is four of my men are gone. Those men were earners, and the Morettis need to compensate me for my losses,” he said.

The fucker had balls. I’d have to give him that.

I had been expecting some bullshit, but for him to outright demand payment was more brazen than I’d expected.

“You do know it’s okay to take credit for your hard work,” I said.

He laughed, looking confused. “Now it’s my turn to say I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“For some reason, Federico, I don’t believe you.”

He shrugged again, a thick shock of black and gray hair that lay against his forehead shaking.

“Well, I need compensation, and I think I have something in mind that will be fair for everyone,” he said.

“I don’t owe you anything, but I’ll indulge you. For a moment,” I responded.

“Like I said, those men were earners. What they bring in has to be replaced. I don’t know if you could spare a shooter, but I think there’s a middle ground that can satisfy us both, or at least leave us both equally unsatisfied.”

“Get to the point, Federico,” I said.

“From what I hear, you left last night with some whore you’re fucking.” Federico looked casual, nonchalant, but his eyes were gleaming with anticipation.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to ignore the way my heart sped.

“I heard, though I have no way of independently verifying it, of course, that you took somebody from the shooting at Carlo’s last night,” Federico said.

“What if I did?” I asked.

“Then give her to me. Bitches can earn too, and I have a couple of spots that could use new recruits,” he said.

My vision started to narrow with the rage that was bubbling up.

“Are you talking about my fucking fiancé, Federico?” I said through clenched teeth, my fist lying on the table.

“No, I’m talking about some tramp that you took out of Carlo’s ,” Federico said, his thumb tapping against the table.

“Why I don’t know what tramp you’re talking about, but I have a fiancé, and you will respect her. Or?—”

I trailed off when Enzo tapped my shoulder.

My rage was so potent I’d forgotten Enzo was there.

Ordinarily, I be pissed at him stepping in, but given that I was seconds away from scooping out Federico’s eyes with his fucking soup spoon, I’d forgive him.

All this because Federico had called Hope a whore. It was something he had done on purpose to gauge my reaction, and I had fallen right into his trap.

I remembered then that I called her Trouble for a reason. And another unmistakable sign that I needed to get rid of her.

I had the perfect opportunity to do so now. Give Hope to Federico, buy the Morettis some goodwill.

There was a time I might have called it a good trade, but the thought of Hope with those animals, the thought of Hope anywhere but in my bed was intolerable.

That realization left me with an undeniable truth, one that I needed to process before I could accept.

“We done here, Federico,” I said.

“So you’re turning down my proposal?” he said.

“Fuck your proposal, and fuck you. Stay away from Moretti territory,” I said.

“As long as the Morettis do the same,” he said.

“And don’t ever say my fiancé’s name; don’t even think about her or you’ll see a side of me that will haunt the few nightmares you have left,” I said. Then I stood and looked at Enzo. “Let’s go.”

When we got in the car, he glared at me.

“What the fuck, Nico?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Don’t play dumb, you dumb motherfucker,” he grumbled.

I chuckled. “A contradiction, but what’s this about, Enzo?”

“Your fucking fiancé, Nico?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Does she know that?” he asked.

I chuckled. “Not yet.”