Confused, I nod but go along, not wanting to screw up my chance.
Lucas isn’t there when we arrive, and I wonder if I’m too late or if he won’t show. I order a cappuccino, just picking it up, when I feel the cool breeze of the door opening. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him. That same sensation—icy fingers along my spine—are enough to tell me.
I take my coffee, thank the barista and turn to find Lucas’s eyes on me.
He’s tall, as tall as Damian, and has a presence that, like Damian, makes people sit up and take notice.
Or maybe that’s his face.
In a strange way, there’s a part of me that feels sorry for him. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s just because of what happened to him. What he has to live with. The people staring in the café is just one example.
But I shake my head because I need to remind myself that he’s ugly on the inside, too. It’d be outright stupid to let myself forget that.
He shifts his gaze to Cash, and I do too, expecting interference. But the two just nod to each other. Lucas opens the door and gestures for me to exit.
I look at the waiting car with the black tinted windows.
I look back at Lucas.
My heart hammers as I walk toward him. I hope I give the impression of being a little more confident than I feel.
“You said you’d meet me here. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, Cristina. I’m taking a risk too.”
“Why can’t we just talk here?”
“Because I’m not alone.”
He turns to the car. I follow his gaze to the passenger side window. It slides halfway down and sitting inside is, of all people, my uncle.
21
Damian
“Is everything ready?”
“Just waiting on your call.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
I climb into the SUV and we head to the restaurant where I’ll meet Arthur Clementi at his request. The old man claims to have information for me. If it’s what I think it is, he will have bought leniency for his sons. I wonder if my dad would do for me what he’s doing for his boys.
No, no need to wonder.
I know that answer.
The restaurant is about an hour out of town. Only three other cars occupy spaces in the parking lot. It’s closed this time of day and when I walk inside, I find the dining room empty but for the table in the back where Arthur is seated. At a quick count, I see he has the agreed upon number of men who are standing not so discreetly around the room.
He’s scared.
That’s good.
Tobias and his men fan out and Clementi stands.
“Arthur,” I say in greeting once I reach the table. He’s aged since I last saw him and now looks every bit his seventy-five years.
“Damian.”
He extends his hand. This is good. I take it, gripping it firmly.
“Thank you for coming,” he says.
“The men who set the fire are dead,” I tell him. He turned them over himself. Men who worked for his sons. A gesture of goodwill, or so he called it.
“Short life spans in our business,” he says casually.
“Not for all of us, I hope.” I wonder if the soldiers working for him know how easily they will be sacrificed if it comes to that.
“Listen, Damian, my boys—”
“Are not boys but men.”
“They made a mistake. I—”
“I assume I’m here because you have information you believe I’ll want?”
I had a gut feeling about the contents of that container not belonging to the Clementi family. I’d been right. Arthur has left the running of the business to his sons for just over a year now. They’ve managed to fuck it up royally.
Of course, that’s my opinion, but I can tell you after this, they’ll be out of business. In fact, they’ll be lucky to walk away at all. Well, hobble away.
In this case, his sons had made the arrangements without their father’s knowledge. When things went south, they asked him to lie and told him it was life or death. And it will be if the information Arthur gathered doesn’t line up with what I’m thinking. Just not old man Clementi’s life. I’ll take one of his boys. They can decide which one between them.
I remember Lucas suggesting the same thing just a few days ago, but if Clementi confirms my suspicion then I have bigger fish to fry.
Clementi raises a finger, and one of the men—I guess his attorney because he’s definitely