Chapter 8 - The Shadow of Marcone
Ricardo instantly pulled back, the romantic tension evaporating as his professional discipline reasserted itself. He walked quickly to his desk and snapped the phone open.
"Moretti."
I watched his face transform in real-time. The warmth disappeared, replaced by a terrifying, icy stillness.
"Where?" Ricardo asked, his voice dead flat. "Are you certain?"
He listened for a few seconds before shutting the phone with a sharp click. He stood behind his desk, leaning his heavy hands against the dark mahogany, his knuckles turning white.
"What happened?" I asked anxiously, stepping toward the desk.
"That attack two weeks ago," Ricardo said, looking up at me. "The Marcone syndicate didn't act alone. Someone inside my own inner circle gave them our security codes and informed them that I was leaving the restaurant."
A cold pit settled in my stomach. "A traitor?"
"My second-in-command in Brooklyn. Dominic," Ricardo spat the name like venom. "My men just tracked him to a warehouse near the docks. He’s packing cash to flee the country."
Ricardo grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and pulled a silver weapon from his desk drawer.
"Ricardo, wait!" I cried out, moving into his path. "Don't go out there angry! That's what they want!"
Ricardo stopped, looking down at me. The monster of Brooklyn was back in his eyes, but as he looked at my terrified face, his expression softened slightly. He reached out, holding my shoulders gently with his large hands.
"I have to settle this, Clara. If I don't eliminate the threat, they will keep coming for this house. They will keep coming for Leo. And they will come for you."
"Promise me you'll come back," I pleaded, grabbing the lapels of his jacket, my eyes searching his. "Promise me."
Ricardo stared at me for a long, heavy second. He leaned down and pressed a firm, hot kiss against my forehead, holding it there for three agonizingly beautiful seconds.
"I promise," he whispered against my skin. "Keep Leo safe until I get back."
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He pulled away, turned on his heel, and swept out of the library, flanked by Frank and six heavily armed operatives.
The heavy front doors of the estate slammed shut, leaving me standing alone in the massive, quiet house, listening to the rain begin to fall once again outside.
