Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 493

Chapter 493: I Have Earned It

Enzo’s expression twisted. "You really are an arrogant bastard."

"I have earned it."

"You think you have what it takes to fight a war on two fronts?" Enzo drawled.

"That’s my problem," Massimo said. "Worry about keeping the rest of your family alive. Get your carcass away from my premises." He turned away then.

Marco remained where he was, broad shoulders squared, making sure the Vitales understood to leave quietly. The Genovese men held their positions behind him.

Massimo walked several steps before instinct made him look up. His eyes caught Carol. She stood on the top-floor balcony overlooking the courtyard, one hand gripping the railing,. Her face was pale with anger and fear. "Ah fuck!" he sighed and started to walk back in. He was going to have it, he really was going to have it.

He hadn’t even gotten to the steps yet when Carol appeared on the landing. Massimo stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked up at her.

The alarm had stopped blaring, but the house still carried its echo. She stood above him, hair loose around her shoulders, one hand on the banister.

Massimo exhaled. "Carol, I don’t want to hear it."

"I don’t care."

Naturally.

He should have known better than to try. Carol had never obeyed him. That had always been one of the reasons he wanted her. It was also, unfortunately, one of the reasons she gave him headaches that no amount of whiskey could cure. "See," he said, starting up the stairs, "this is why we always have a problem."

"We have a problem because men in this house think love means standing in front of bullets."

Massimo stopped halfway up. He looked at her. The Don wanted to dismiss the conversation. The man beneath him wanted, foolishly, to go to her, place a hand at the side of her face, and tell her that he was tired too. Tired of wars. Tired of deaths.

Tenderness had always been harder for him than war.

"What would you have me do?" he demanded. "What would you have had Luca do?"

Carol came down two steps, anger flashing in her eyes. "Not everything has to be handled with blood."

"Blood is usually the first language people understand."

"Then learn another fucking language!"

His mouth tightened. She was not just angry. She was terrified.

"Bianca’s dead," Carol said. "Now someone else has to die too. Who is it going to be? Who?"

Massimo said nothing.

"My sons? You?" Carol was afraid this famiglia would take every person she loved.

"Oh, I thought that last option would please you."

Carol’s eyes flashed. "Immensely!"

"I just spoke to Luca," Marco said. "Turns out he did think ahead. "But he cannot give me the details over the phone," Marco added. "He says we will have to trust him."

"Well then," Massimo said, as if the matter had been settled, "it’s settled." He glanced at Carol. "You happy now? Your son fixed it."

Carol inhaled heavily. She was deciding whether to answer with words or violence. Massimo did not wait to find out. He walked past her. She turned to Marco. "You trust Luca to be level headed."

Marco’s mouth twitched. There were a great many ways to describe Luciano Genovese. Level headed was not always the first term to come to mind. But Marco knew Luca better than most. Knew the madness, yes. Knew the temper, the pride, the mercilessness. But he also knew the man beneath it—the one who loved with both hands closed around the throat of the world, daring it to take anything from him.

"Yes, Ma," Marco said. "I do. He has too much to lose if he isn’t."

She reached for him. "Let’s get you back in bed. You shouldn’t be moving around so much."

"Ma, I really am very fine." Marco sighed. "I feel great. I have all this pent-up energy and I have nowhere to put it."

"You have a bed. Put it there."

"Ma—"

"Just humour me, okay. Please."

"Okay, Ma," he answered reluctantly.

(Brought to you by Jennifer Willard 3/3)