The Woman at the Docks (Grassi Framily)

I didn't know much about him, other than him being the underboss of the biggest crime family in New York.

But, apparently, there was some kind of connection to the Grassi family.

&n

bsp; And his visit was important.

Just as the whole operation seemed to be in shambles.

I sat near my phone the entire day, my stomach in knots, praying everything would go right, that Luca would be able to come home to me.

And I waited.

And waited.

And waited...

Chapter Fourteen

Luca

Not much made me nervous.

I simply wasn't wired that way.

Maybe because my life came with so many uncertainties from such a young age. I never would have made it through if all I did was panic.

But I was nervous.

It was there in the tightness in my jaw, the thudding heartbeat, the churning discomfort of my stomach.

"Don't let it get to you," Lucky demanded, sitting beside me in the cafe at tables they only set up for us. We'd invested in their renovations a few years back, helping business pick up. They didn't care about the mafia connection, so they let us do whatever we wanted, having meetings at various places around their property.

Including this one.

Since the Costa family refused to have meetings at the docks or our restaurant, claiming safety reasons. Though, I was pretty sure that was Art talking, not Lorenzo who had always been a little less paranoid than his father.

"I don't know what the fuck my father wants us to tell him to excuse why we called in Feds to our operation."

Speaking of, he was late. Uncharacteristically late. And Matteo hadn't been seen in a day and a half, leading me to wonder if he had decided all the excitement was over, so he was going to go find some skirt to crawl up under.

"I don't know," Lucky agreed, reaching for his coffee. "Thank God it's Lorenzo, though," he added, shaking his head.

If it were up to the commission, we'd likely all be dead by now. But since Art had put his son in charge of dealing with us, the issue likely wouldn't come up in a sit down until he returned.

So this was big.

We had to spin the whole container thing as well as satisfy Art's desire for more money without having to let the Russians bring in guns, leaving us with a street war against the Henchmen MC in town.

And, let's face it, if you were going to have a war, you didn't want to go up against arms dealers.

Besides, we'd had a truce of sorts for longer than I'd been alive. We didn't want to start that shit.

Not even for New York.

"We've got to tell them to get an umbrella," Lucky decided, reaching up to wipe sweat off his brow.

Even if we had one, it was a day that meant it was ninety in the shade and the humidity was damn near one-hundred percent.