Page 36 of Wanton

Antonio shifts toward the bench beside me, moving casually.

Enzo quickly pats Rafe down, finding nothing.

"Your turn," Emilio spits at me.

I resist the urge to plant my fist in his face and step forward, moving to block Antonio from view.

Enzo grabs my arms, carefully feeling for a weapon. He's thorough, I'll give him that.

"Was Marcello too busy to join us, Genovese?" Rafe asks, stepping in front of Emilio to distract him. "Isn't he your second-in-command, or did I miss some memo?"

"You missed nothing, Valentino. My son had other matters to attend to today."

"Nothing pressing, I hope."

"It was a family matter," Emilio lies. "I'm sure you understand how important those can be."

"Of course," Rafe says, his voice flat.

Enzo elbows me in the dick, intentionally, I'm sure.

"Stronzo," I mutter.

He grabs my balls.

"Those are my balls," I growl. "Would you like me to drop my pants so you can see what a real pair looks like, or are you done grabbing on them now?"

His expression sours, hatred flashing in his eyes, but he releases my dick and quickly pats down my legs before rising to his feet again.

"They're clean," he mutters.

"Satisfied?" Rafe asks Emilio, who nods. "Good. Enzo, Antonio, get the fuck out."

I quickly slide onto the bench, feeling for the weapon Antonio left for me. My hand closes over it. I tuck it under my jacket, hiding it from view. If Emilio tries anything, we'll be ready.

Enzo and Antonio file out, followed by Mattia, who takes up a position in front of the doors. As Rafe's consigliere, he'd usually stay inside, but since Emilio hasn't chosen a consigliere yet and we killed Battista, he'll guard the doors. Enzo doesn't get to stay. Neither does Antonio.

In truth, I wouldn't have brought him at all, but Rafe wanted to remind Emilio that my position is secure. Emilio is the one on shaky ground. He has no consigliere and he's losing votes by the day. If he chooses war, he chooses death for everyone. An alliance is his best choice.

"Take a seat, Genovese," Rafe says, motioning for Emilio to slide into the booth across from me.

Emilio chafes at being told what to do but reluctantly settles onto the bench to scowl at me.

Rafe waits until he's seated to slide in next to me. "You demanded this meeting, so talk, Genovese. Why are we here?"

"I want my daughter back from thispezzo di merda," he growls, jabbing a finger in my direction. "She'll marry into your family over my dead body."

"That can be arranged," I offer.

"Despite how she's acting, she's a Genovese!"

"What the fuck does that mean?" I ask, my voice dangerously soft.

"You know exactly what I mean, Valentino," he says, his face contorting with disgust. "She's aprincipessa, not your plaything. God only knows what lies you filled her head with to get her to act like your littlezoccola."

I slam my fist down on the tabletop. "Say whatever you want to say about me, Genovese," I snarl. "But insult her again and I'll rip your goddamn tongue out."

"Do not tell me what I can and cannot do with my own daughter!" he bellows, rising to his feet. "You two may rule this city but you have no control over my family or how I choose to run it."