Chapter 43
“Nothing beats the feel of paper,” Marco replied. He reached for a pan.
“Come on!” Valentina groaned, spinning on her heel. “We can play Scrabble. Monopoly. Something. I’m bored p>
“Not my problem p>
She gasped, offended. “Wow. You’re cold p>
She circled him. “You know,” she said casually, “I can put in a good word for you with my sister. She already kinda likes you. You might win points.” Her brows wiggled with wicked enthusiasm.
“Trust me,” he said slowly, forcing his hands to keep moving, cracking eggs with unnecessary care, “I am not interested in your sister p>
He absolutely could not be interested in her sister. Thinking about Veronica Scalese was a shortcut to a shallow grave. Marco liked his head attached where it was.
“You’re terrible company p>
“Good p>
“Why do you hate fun?” she demanded.
Marco grunted. “If I say yes, will you leave me alone p>
“That doesn’t make any sense. The point is spending time with me p>
He pinched the bridge of his nose, already regretting every life decision that had brought him into a house owned by Luca Genovese and occupied by a bored Scalese teenager. “Fine! You win! I’ll play fucking Monopoly with you p>
Her reaction was immediate and explosive.
“Ah!” Valentina screamed, launching herself at him and wrapping her arms around his middle with the strength of a girl who had too much sugar and nowhere to spend it. “Thank you! Thank you! You’re the best p>
“I am absolutely not,” Marco muttered, stiff as a lamppost while she hugged him. Physical affection was not his language.
She pulled back, eyes sparkling with triumph. “You have to run to the store and get some board games p>
He stared at her. “Excuse me p>
“You heard me!” She was already halfway out of the kitchen, voice trailing behind her. “We can’t play Monopoly if we don’t have Monopoly p>
“Great! Just great!” Marco groaned to the empty room. “Fucking Scalese girls p>
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
For a split second, his heart lifted.
Lord please, let it be another fucking mission.
Anything. A pickup. A warning. A mess to clean.
He pulled the phone out and checked the message.
Bastardi: Coming tonight. Need to check the merchandise.
Marco stared at the screen longer than necessary.
His jaw tightened. His shoulders followed.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
He glanced in the direction Valentina had disappeared, her laughter still faintly echoing down the corridor. A kid. Loud. Curious. Annoying as hell.
He turned back to the stove and flipped the eggs in the pan.
Merchandise.
The word tasted like bile now. It hadn’t before. He’d used it a thousand times. Packages. Cargo. Goods. Clean words for dirty realities.
Marco shut the stove off.
“Fuck this,” he muttered
Vito Scalese locked his door behind him and adjusted his jacket. It was late morning, the good hour before lunch rush.
That was when a voice came from behind him.
“Mr Scalese p>
Vito stopped.
Slowly, he turned.
A man stood at the bottom of his steps, badge visible, posture alert.
“Who’s asking?” Vito said evenly.
“Detective Voss. NYPD. Mind if I have a word p>
“God fucking Christ! That boy does not listen p>
“If by that boy, you mean, Cassidy Grant then yes. Apparently, he has the balls to do what you cannot do p>
Vito snorted. “Which is what p>
“Take down Luciano Genovese, the man who has both your daughters p>
Vito looked up, eyes sharp, jaw set. “They are wherever they are of their own freewill p>
“And yet,” Voss continued calmly, “we have not been able to locate your younger daughter, Valentina Scalese p>
“She’s on a trip.” Vito said.
“Can you have her call me then?” Voss reached into his jacket and gave him his card.
“My daughters are okay. Cassidy should mind his own fucking business p>
“Do you know Paul Marino? The owner of Marino pizza, his store is right opposite yours p>
Vito’s hands stilled. “Of course. Died three months ago. Mob hit p>
“Luciano killed him p>
“It’s the rumour.” Vito shrugged, but his shoulders were tight now, defensive.
Voss tilted his head. “What do you think he is capable of doing to your daughters p>
“Like I said,” Vito replied, slower now, “my daughters are okay and fine. Veronica is currently at his house, she moves about of her own free will, she still works at the pizza parlour and Valentina is quite fine p>
“I don’t believe you p>
Vito scoffed. “You cops always think you know better p>
“Like I said, have her call me. Or I will send out an amber alert.” Voss said again.
“I didn’t report her missing.” Vito snapped, arms folded tight across his chest.
“Someone did,” Voss replied, “and I think they may be right p>
Vito followed him a step, anger flaring hot and useless. “You will believe Cassidy over me? Over their father p>
Voss stopped and turned back. “Have her call me,” he said quietly, “and I will believe you p>
Then he left.
When Cassidy opened the door and found Veronica standing there, his stomach did flips.
“Vee!” He pulled her into his arms, the hug almost crushing.
She stiffened, then melted into him anyway, her arms coming around his back. Human reflex. Muscle memory. Home, even when home was complicated.
“Where is your shadow?” he asked.
“I’m here by myself p>
Cas pulled her inside and closed the door.
“Cas,” Vee said, stepping back, putting space between them. “You need to stop this madness. What you’re doing is putting us at risk. Luca knows every move you make. Who do you think suffers for it p>
Her eyes were fierce now, protective. She wasn’t scared for herself. She was scared for him. For her sister.
“Vee p>
“I told you to trust me,” she continued. “I told you I have this handled p>
“I know,” he said quickly. His hands raked through his hair, frustration radiating off him. “I know. I just p>
He turned away, pacing once, then twice, before spinning back to face her. “Fuck it! I feel like a weakling. I was there! I was right there when he took you. And I could do nothing about it p>