Becoming the Street Boss - Hayley Faiman Page 0,117
They have agreed to the terms without blinking an eye.”
“They have?” Arlo asks.
Nodding, I lift my glass to my lips and take a drink. “They have. They’re from down south, they know the drill. Appreciated the heads up and the option to agree before any other tactics were used,” I say before I take a drink from my glass.
“Good,” Gavino murmurs. “Now that Rosana is all graduated, she’s going to live in Manhattan?” he asks.
“Yeah, she is,” I say, nodding my head in agreement.
There’s a silent moment, the three of us just looking at the crowd gathered to celebrate Rosana and her accomplishments.
“The wife was found,” Gavino says.
“Wife?”
Gavino nods his head once, never looking at me, his gaze focused on Luciana as she stands with the rest of the women talking as though they didn’t just have lunch together yesterday. I’m sure they shopped and tortured their guards as well. Something that I know they truly delight in doing.
“Roman’s wife. He didn’t kill her. Not only was he a rapist and whatever else he was, he was a liar.”
“Maybe Erin and Brando were the liars?” I ask.
Gavino nods. “Possibly,” he says, taking a drink from his own glass. “But, I honestly think that he may not have known she was alive. Maybe it was all a lie. She’s at the casino for us to question anyway. I’m tired of playing these games with all of them.”
“Whole thing gave me a goddamn headache,” I grunt.
“No shit,” Arlo snorts. “Want to head to the casino? Get to the bottom of it? Mia says she’s crying. And you know how Mia doesn’t do crying females.”
We leave, telling the women to meet us there when they’re all finished. Pippa narrows her eyes at me, tilting her head to the side. Lowering my chin, I touch my mouth to hers.
“What is it?” she asks on a whisper.
I grunt, sliding my lips along hers. “It’s business, dolcezza.”
She hums. “I’m sure. I’ll see you later.” Licking her bottom lip, I nip the flesh before I take a step back. “I’ll see you soon, Massimo,” she calls out.
“You will, dolcezza.”
Leaving her, I go straight to the casino, directly to where Roman’s wife is waiting for us. When I arrive, I’m not surprised to see that she’s a pretty woman. She has dark hair, darker eyes, and she looks strong but terrified at the sight of me, Gavino, and Arlo staring down at her.
She sniffles before she starts to talk. “My husband was not a good or kind man. As soon as everything happened and we lost the bakery. I left him. I haven’t been back.”
Licking my lips, my eyes travel down her body before they lift to meet her own. “We were told that he killed you, the children, then killed himself?”
She shakes her head. “I left. I packed up the kids and ran away in the middle of the night. I took an Uber until I could get to a car rental place. I didn’t want him to find me. I stayed with an old friend, someone who was from the neighborhood, but lives in a remote house in the middle of Montana now. He lives off of the grid. It was the perfect place to hide out for a while.”
“But you’re back now, why?” Gavino asks.
She inhales a deep breath then lets it out. “I know that he’s gone. His lover is gone, too. There is no reason for me to hide anymore, is there?”
There’s a moment of silence. I search her face, looking for any love lost with Roman, but it’s not there.
“Your lover is gone too, but I’m sure you know that?” I ask. She nods, her eyes flicking to the floor before they lift to mine.
“That’s not what he was, maybe what he wanted, but I never, not with him.”
“I have one piece of advice,” Gavino mutters. She lifts her chin, jutting it forward as she looks up at him standing above her. “Take whatever you can fit in your car. Empty out what’s left in the bank accounts and go back to that remote home with a man who probably treats you a hell of a lot better than that rotto nel culo ever did.”
I watch as she licks her lips, her eyes flicking from each one of us, then landing on Gavino. “He does,” she whispers as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
“Do you need someone to go with you? As protection?”