The Enforcer (Untamed Hearts Book 3) (38 page)

But they didn’t argue. They just sat over in a corner, all four of them eyeing this man until he turned his back, and Carlo asked Nova, “What’d he say?”

“He said,
‘Should I call your father?’
” Nova whispered under his breath. “You probably should’ve asked her last name, strunzu.”

“She probably should’ve asked mine.” Carlo looked very hard all of a sudden, very angry as they all stared at the elevator and waited.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

So that was where they were at.

One dangerous enforcer/pissed-off uncle.

One powerful capo/freaked-out brother.

One near hysterical sorta ex-girlfriend.

And Carina.

The elevator dinged, and before any of them could do anything, Carina was up off the bench in the lobby. Brianna was temporarily stunned by the woman who stepped out because she was so incredibly beautiful. Like cover-model, movie-star, drop-dead-gorgeous, stop-in-the-middle-of-the-street-to-look-at kind of beautiful.

Her dark hair fell in long, tight curls that hung clear down to the middle of her back. She wore a long, flowing cream-colored dress that made her look like she was supposed to be on a yacht in the Caribbean. It was cut low, showing off an hourglass figure that really shouldn’t be normal because it made her look too perfect.

Maybe it wasn’t real, because if anyone looked like a kept woman, this one did.

“Where’s my brother, you plastic Barbie-doll bitch?” Carina growled in a voice shaking with fury.

Lola pulled back, looking down at Carina like she was one of those annoying, yappy dogs. Then she turned and arched an eyebrow at Carlo and Nova. “Who is her brother, and why does she think I care?”

“You know who her brother is. You’ve known him for years.” Carlo glared at her. “And I think you should answer her question, Lola.”

For the flash of one second, Brianna saw the fear when Lola’s amazing light eyes widened, and she studied the four of them. In particular, she looked from Nova to Carina as if it all clicked into place. Then just as fast, a shield of icy confidence seemed to fall over her.

“You should leave.” Lola stared at Carlo as she said it. “I told you before, I’m not interested.”

“Vafanculu!” Carlo shouted at her. “I’m not leaving!”

“
No, vai a fanculo tu!
” Lola shouted without backing down as she pointed at the door. “
Uscite! O vi farò buttare fuori!
”

Brianna didn’t know what Lola said, but something about it made Carlo turn and pull a gun on the doorman so quickly she gasped.

“Drop it, motherfucker,” Carlo growled. “I’m a shoot-first, ask-questions-later kinda guy.”

Brianna didn’t see it, but she heard the distinct clank of metal landing on marble.

The doorman raised his hands slowly. “Her father’s coming,” he said, as if Carlo holding a gun on him was a minor annoyance. “Best to clear off.”

“Who’s her father?” Carlo shrugged. “You think I can’t take him?”

“Maybe you can.” The doorman still seemed unfazed. “But can you take the twenty men he has with him?”

“We’ve got friends too.” Nova looked as ice-cold as the doorman, which had to be an act, because he was a nervous wreck the entire ride there. “So I guess it depends on who her father is.”

“Carmine Brambino.” The doorman said it like he expected them to quake in their boots.

The Brambinos were one of the original New York mafia families with a hundred years of violent history to back them up. Any normal person would be taken aback by that, because Carmine Brambino had been one of the more visible dons lately, especially since he’d been brought up on racketeering charges in a very public trial that got him off with time served last year.

But it must have occurred to all of them that the doorman didn’t know they were with the Moretti Borgata.

“If you want it, you have to pay for it,” Lola said in that same icy voice. “I told you before, talk to my father, but it’ll cost you more than a pretty face and a cup of coffee. Not that you’d know where to find a good cup of coffee.”

“You cunt.” Carlo’s voice was shaking in fury. “If you think—”

“We’re leaving,” Nova cut him off; his gaze was on Lola as he said, “If it’s more than a cup of coffee—”

“Yes, it’s a lot more.” Lola took a shuddering breath, her eyes widening in a strange sort of relief, but her tone didn’t change. “So take your guns and go home before you get hurt.”

“Fine.” Nova put his gun into the back of his jeans.

“What the hell?” Carlo asked in disbelief. “Fuck, no! You think I’m scared of—”

“Let’s go.” Nova gave Carlo a wide-eyed look, as if trying to silently communicate something.

It said a lot for the trust they had for each other that Carlo cast another furious glare at Lola but put his gun away. “She’s not fucking worth it anyway.”

“Oh, I’m worth it,” Lola said without hesitating. “But secondhand bastardi don’t get to fuck on the Upper East Side.”

Carlo actually jumped at her. Lola leaped away just as fast, as if he wasn’t the first man to do it. Nova caught Carlo’s shoulder and jerked him back so forcefully Carlo nearly landed on his ass.

“Let’s go!” Nova growled, this time squeezing his shoulder tightly. “Now!”

“Fine!” Carlo pushed past Nova and walked to the door before he stopped and turned back to Lola. “I fuck on the Upper East Side all the time, sweetheart, and I don’t have to pay a troia to do it!”

Lola took one sharp, hard gasp as if Carlo stabbed her, but she didn’t respond. She just turned on her heel and went back to the elevator like the confrontation never happened.

* * * *

Once they got outside, Nova said to Carlo, “Give me your keys.”

It wasn’t a mystery why. Carlo was shaking. From head to toe, he was quaking with something that was difficult to name. Fury. Horror. Betrayal.

“Keys!” Nova shouted when Carlo wasn’t moving.

Carlo handed him the keys, and Nova headed back to the car. He didn’t ask them to follow, but they did anyway. Once they all got in, Nova turned on the car and asked, “Did you know she spoke Italiano?”

Carlo shook his head.

“What have you said in front of her?”

“I don’t know!” Carlo ran both hands through his hair. “I’m not you. I can’t remember every friggin’ conversation I had in front of her.”

“But you’ve been on the phone in front of her,” Nova went on. “Speaking Italiano?”

Carlo didn’t say anything, his labored breathing sounding over the New York traffic instead.

“
Deficiente!
” Nova turned around at a stoplight and pointed at Carina. “If you tell your nonno, princess—”

“I won’t!” Carina said quickly and turned to Carlo. “I won’t tell him, but I don’t understand. If Tino knows her, why didn’t he tell you? Does Tino know Zio Carmine is her father? Figlio di puttana, this means that bitch is my cousin! You fucked my cousin!”

“Carina!” Carlo threw up his hands. “
Stai zitta!
”

“You
did not
just tell me to shut up,” Carina growled at him.

“Where did you meet her?” Nova asked Carlo. “You said you met her at a coffeehouse. Where is it?”

Carlo frowned. “Why?”

“’Cause I think that’s what she was trying to say. That she’ll meet us there. She couldn’t talk in front of that doorman. She was giving you a hint, cretino. She kept talking about coffee.”

Carlo was quiet, and then he turned to look at Nova. “Does that mean she’s on our side? She’s not—”

“Oh my God,” Carina said from the backseat. “You still wanna fuck her.”

“She
is
really beautiful,” Brianna had to point out. “I think she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Yeah, she is,” Carlo said distantly, sounding very lost.

* * * *

Thank God the coffeehouse was one of those all-night places, or they would’ve been kicked out before Lola showed up.

Brianna had no idea why this woman was getting coffee in Greenwich Village when she lived on the Upper East Side, and after four hours, the whole time fighting the fear of where Tino was and what was happening to him, she said, “This was a long way to go for coffee.”

“Yeah, no shit. Maybe she was fucking another zio,” Carina said drily.

“You’re out of
zii
,” Carlo snapped at her from across the table.

Carina arched an eyebrow at him. “That you know.”

“Did she tell you why she was here for coffee?” Nova asked. “You knew where she lived. You didn’t ask why she comes to the Village for coffee?”

“She said she was meeting a client—”

“Oh wow,” Carina cut in.

“She told me she was an interior designer.” Carlo held up his hands. “Why should I doubt that?”

“But she’s twenty-one. People go to school for interior design. If she said designer, not decorator, then she needs a degree for that,” Nova argued. “And you thought she could afford an Upper East Side apartment doing interior design? Is she a decorating savant?”

“Sicilian men should be neutered at birth,” Carina added.

“This really isn’t helping anything,” Brianna said, because the past several hours had basically reduced the Morettis to jabbing at one another as much as possible. “He fell in love with an exceptionally beautiful woman who lied to him. It’s not his fault.”

Carlo looked at Brianna across the table and then whispered, “Grazie.”

Brianna shrugged. “I know how it feels. I was blinded too. I stopped thinking when I was with Tino, and I know it wasn’t just the ecstasy. It’s like he learned how to make someone want him even when he wasn’t up to it. That night of the fight, all he wanted to do was hold me. He was tired. He was done giving, and it’s really horrible knowing why.”

She said out loud what all of them feared.

Nova leaned down against the table after that, resting his cheek on his arm and looking out the window.

Waiting.

They tried calling some of Tino’s other friends again, but no one was answering. Which felt all wrong at eleven at night, but Nova finally said, “They could be…working.”

“This late? They’re out on the weekends. You said they go to raves and party all night,” Carlo argued.

“Businessmen go home for the weekends,” Nova said as if it was obvious. “They do family shit like we do. Mass and Sunday dinner. I think Tino’s friends work during the week.”

“What did Tino do during the week?” Carlo asked and then looked to Brianna. “He went to dance with you after school. What? Three days a week?”

Brianna nodded. “Then we’d do our homework on the train. He got home around seven on dance days.”

“When did you see him?” Carlo gestured to Nova. “You meet up with him at your dojo a couple times a week for karate, but what about the other times?”

“I usually don’t get back until way past midnight. I work too,” Nova reminded all of them. “I have the hardest crew in New York, and he’s sixteen. I didn’t think he needed a babysitter.”

“No one’s accusing you.” Carlo held up his hands. “I’m just trying to get a better picture.”

“Bullshit!” Nova shouted at him. “You’re fucking accusing me! You think I’ve been so busy being the old man’s bitch that I ignored my brother! I missed all the obvious merda even though I
knew
something was wrong with him.”

“Is this a bad time?”

All four of them turned at once to see Lola Brambino standing there in a new gold dress that was the same style from earlier, long and flowing, showing off those Upper East Side curves. Her long hair was tied up in a bun now, clearly wet, as if she had taken a quick shower before she headed out to meet them.

“No, sit.” Nova gestured to the spot next to Carlo. “
Prego.
”

Lola looked at the space next to Carlo. “I know you prefer being closest to door.”

“I guess so,” Carlo countered, sounding hard and angry. “What else do you know about me?”

“Move.” Nova shoved Carlo. “Sit with the girls. We’re out of time. We’ve been out of time. Sit and shut up.”

Carlo did what he said without complaint with the reminder that Tino was still gone.

“I’m sorry you waited so long.” Lola sat next to Nova and set her purse between them on the bench. “It’s not unusual for men to follow me home, but if I’d left afterward, it would’ve seemed out of place.”

“So you went to work?” Carlo growled at her. “Knowing Tino’s missing.”

Nova held up his hands and looked at his uncle. “Stai zitto!”

“I would be much more comfortable if we could discuss this privately.” Lola looked at Nova and ignored the rest of the table with remarkable efficiency.

“I get to stay,” Carina said before Nova could answer. “If Nova gets to stay, I get to stay. He’s our brother. We don’t give a shit who he’s fucking or why. We just wanna find him.”

“Sister on your mother’s side?” Lola asked Nova, still ignoring the rest of them.

“No.” Nova shook his head slowly, his gaze darting to Carina. “She’s our sister on our father’s side. She’s—”

“Your cousin,” Carina finished for him. “We’re cousins. First cousins, apparently. So I get to stay. Family privilege.”

“And your friend?” Lola finally acknowledged the rest of them. “Brianna?”

Brianna nodded. “That’s right.”

“Okay.” Lola looked back to Nova. “We should discuss this privately.”

“No, whatever you have to say, you can share it with the whole table,” Carlo growled.

“We’re staying,” Carina added. “We had to wait four hours for you. Four hours that my brother is out there somewhere. Four hours is a long fucking time. Motherfuckers die a lot quicker than that.”

“We are very out of time,” Nova agreed, but he glanced at Carina. “But—”

“Why is everyone looking at me?” Carina snapped at the entire table. “I’m not his girlfriend. I don’t care what he did.” She pointed at Lola. “I’m not your girlfriend either. So start talking.”

“When did Tino disappear?” Lola asked.

“He never came home last night,” Nova whispered. “I thought he was at dance practice, but Brianna told me he hasn’t been to dance since—”

“Since your fight.” Lola nodded. “I understand.”

“Do you know who he could’ve been with?” Nova asked hopefully.

Lola looked across the table at Carlo, before she shrugged. “Tino and I don’t share our schedules with each other.”