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“Indeed. At least, not until the two of you are on even footing. I’m giving you that chance.” Ajello’s gaze lies heavy on me. “He got your sister. You get his. Problem eliminated.” I stare at my boss, lost for words. Leave it to Ajello to come up with the most outrageous solution that somehow actually makes sense.
“Both obedience and loyalty should be inspired by respect, Arturo. A man who would ask someone he considers a friend to do his bidding as repayment for help freely given is not worthy of that respect. What I did, I did because it was the right thing to do. You are in no way indebted to me for that.”
“Are you really going to put a bullet in my head if I don’t do it?” He looks at me over the rim of his glass. “No. But I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d just agree.”
“Wanna hear something?” I ask. “The day of Popov’s atrocious wedding carnival—” “Svadba, you mean?” “Yeah, that. Once I parked my car and was headed toward his mammoth house, a black cat crossed the road right in front of me.” “Don’t tell me you believe in foolish superstitions.” “I didn’t. Not until that day, that is. Ten minutes later, though, I met Drago’s sister.” I shake my head. “A pack of rabid dogs is less of a menace than she is. So you tell me there’s nothing to that bad omen.” “Some cultures believe that black cats bring you good luck.” “I guess I’ll find out soon enough.”
Flowers might help. Compliments, definitely. Try asking her out for coffee first.” I squeeze my temples, groaning on the inside. Salvatore Ajello giving me advice on how to court a woman? “Because that worked so damn well for you, boss?” “Well, you could always threaten to annihilate everyone she holds dear. When flowers failed, that’s what got me Milene. Eventually.
Ajello’s phone starts ringing, and he shrugs as he takes it out. “Cara mia, you’re still up? … No, I didn’t have time to get the cat food, yet. I’ll do it as soon as I’m finished with Arturo. … Yes, I’m aware that Kurt has been throwing up since yesterday. The damn pest probably ate another gross bug and— … What do you mean he scratched you?” Spinning around, Ajello races toward the office door. “Stay put. I’m coming up right now. I’ll call Ilaria on the way. … I don’t care if it’s just a nick! … No, I’m not overreacting! What if it gets infected?”
“You have two months to convince your future bride to marry you.” The door slams shut in his wake, but I can still hear the sound of his fading voice while he continues making a fuss about his wife’s damn scratch. Jesus. If anyone had told me a few years ago that Salvatore Ajello would be such a goner for a woman, I’d have laughed in their face. It’s a tragedy, really. At least no one would ever catch me losing my mind like this. Especially over an unwanted wife.
“But beautiful, yes? I’ve only seen her from afar, but”—he whistles—“she’s a babe. I wouldn’t mind doing her if you two don’t end—” My fist flies as if of its own accord, slamming right into Nino’s face. “What the fuck, man?” he groans, pressing his hand over his busted lip. “Watch your damn mouth,” I growl, then take off at a clipped pace toward my car. Yeah… What the fuck was that?
Truth is, I didn’t give a damn about who I was shooting when I pulled the trigger. I saw that asshole slap Tara, and rage unlike any I’ve ever known boiled in my veins.
“I’m going to make your life a living hell.” “Of that, gattina, I don’t have the slightest doubt.”
“I won’t be breaking bread with an enemy, especially under his roof.” Pausing on my way to the kitchen, I throw a glance over my shoulder. Tara remains standing in the middle of the living room. With her hands on her hips, she’s slashing me with an irritated look. Shrugging, I head to the fridge. “Then starve.”
“I’m concerned about a friend of mine, so I suggested that he should get married.” I shake my head. What’s with Ajello and his recent obsession with getting everyone around him hitched? Is arranging marriages a new hobby of his, or is he just bored?
A man like Salvatore Ajello, with nothing productive to do, is a serious threat to society. God only knows what crazy ideas might pop into his head. But if he has developed a sudden interest in matchmaking, I can get Adam to contact a buddy of his who runs a local radio station. Maybe Ajello could get his own show? Mm-hmm. Nightly dating advice from the Cosa Nostra don. Live, on air. I snicker inwardly, imagining it. “You free on Thursday evenings?” I ask. “No. Why do you ask?” “No reason.”
