“I did. And I warn you, it’s a big dog. She’s especially fond of eating dickhead brains though, so Pietro better watch out.”
“Ha fucking ha,” he says, punching my ass with surprising strength.
I bite a small flap of skin from my thumb and smear it across the panel on the doorknob. The security system is programmed not only for fingerprints, but for blood scans as well. A quiet click tells me all is good.
I kick open the door, and they follow me inside. The whole ground floor is a smokescreen. There’s normal stuff like couches and a TV, but it’s basically a kill box with doors that lock remotely, UV floodlights, motion detectors, steel gates, and weapons stashed everywhere. Anyone who comes in who shouldn’t be here won’t last long.
Rosa pulls open a drawer and runs her fingers over the semiautomatic tucked inside, then she wanders over to one of the doorways and smiles up at the spiked metal barely visible at the top of the frame. One touch of a button in the control room and anyone standing there becomes a shish kebab.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” she says. “You’ve got a shot at a spread inVampire House Beautiful.”
Her breathing grows calmer, her heartbeat steadying. She’s starting to relax, and that alone was worth all the money this setup cost me.
I lead us upstairs to the next level, and Moonface is barking and pawing at the wood before the door opens. As soon as I turn the handle, she explodes out, a muscular bundle of teeth, brindle fur, and love.
Rosa immediately kneels, holds out a hand for the dog to sniff, and is knocked on her ass by the fifty-pound slobber machine. They roll around for a minute, Moonface sticking her nose into all my woman’s nooks and crannies and getting well and truly stroked in return. Lucky dog.
Matteo calls Moonface to him, and she goes straight to his side, where she gazes up at him in adoration.
“Matteo, Rosa. Rosa, Matteo. And Moonface you’ve already met.”
Rosa straightens and looks my friend over with a cautious gaze, her hand wrapped around her amulet. Fair enough. She’s in foreign territory and has been quite literally sleeping with the enemy. It’s understandable that she doesn’t automatically trust him.
“Nice to meet you, Rosa,” Matteo says quietly, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible, which is tough for a six-foot-seven killing machine with fangs, and hands the size of serving platters. It doesn’t help that his nose was broken when he was transformed, so it’s been stuck crooked ever since.
“You too,” she replies, nodding and gazing around the room. It’s a nice room, filling the whole level, with couches and a fully set-up kitchen that rarely gets any use.
If any of us were that way inclined, it’d be airy—the big windows would let in lots of light. Of course, we keep them blacked out. There’s art on the walls, a big table with fresh flowers, and an overflowing bookcase stocked with literature that spans centuries. Rosa studies the books, her fingers running over their spines, and smiles.
“ShakespeareandDanielle Steel?” She looks at me with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, well. I’m a complicated man.”
She winks at me. “I know.”
That thing happens again—that thing where I feel like we’re the only two people in the whole fucking world. And I want nothing more than to scoop her up, carry her off to my bed, and make her come.
“Hey, asshole!” Her brother interrupts the moment, using his fists on me again. I forgot he was still dangling over my shoulder. “Are you gonna put me down or what?”
“Whatever you say, sunshine.” I drop him on the floor.
He lands with a thud and splutters as he tries to sit up. Moonface takes one look and thinks it’s play time. Deeply satisfying terror crosses Pietro’s face as the massive pit bull flies across the room, her paws scratching on the parquet floor, and I laugh when she licks his face like a popsicle.
We leave him to wrestle with his new pal, and the three of us sit at the big table. Matteo made sandwiches, and Rosa devours a pastrami on rye as I fill him in on our situation.
“So, this Tomasso guy,” he says.
Rosa corrects him. “The Grand Ball Sack, please, to give him his proper title.”
Matteo nods solemnly and continues. “So, this Grand Ball Sack guy?—
the Don thinks he’s going to make a move on the Coscas? On us? Is he fucking crazy?”
“I think they’re both a bit crazy, my friend. A couple of old men who want to run the fucking world. But what Vincenzo said makes sense. He may be a paranoid fucker, but he’s stayed in charge this long for a reason. If he thinks Tom—sorry, the Grand Ball Sack is expanding, then maybe he is.”
“He is!” shouts Pietro from his spot on the floor. Moonface is lying on top of him, her paws pinning his chest as she kisses him. Pietro is ruffling her ears, so I guess he doesn’t mind too much.
“He didn’t share it all with me,” he says. “But the man has no sense of digital security, and if he did, well, I’d get past it… But yeah. He was expanding. Stuff that didn’t make sense at the time. Buying up weapons manufacturers abroad, bribes to more douchebag politicians than normal. A couple of companies with those macho names, like Summit Lord Solutions or Lethal Logistics or?— ”
