Giovanni (Benedetti Brothers 4)

But I have no choice.

I get up, say a silent prayer in the hopes that I’m doing the right thing, and pick up the house phone to dial Giovanni’s phone number. He answers on the second ring, and I’m surprised when he knows it’s me.

“Good run?” he asks. He knows that too.

But it doesn’t matter anymore.

“I need your help.”10GiovanniI’m standing outside the house at the address I found in John Diaz’s pocket. It’s where Emilia has been keeping her father hidden for the last four years. I wonder how she’s done it. How she’s kept her secret. Saved his life. What’s left of it.

The door opens, and Emilia stands there looking reluctantly up at me.

I smile down at her. I like her like this. In my debt. Needing me. Needing my help. My protection.

She steps aside, and I enter along with several of my men, who split up throughout the house. She closes the door, and I glance around the large, old space, then back to her. I cock my head to the side.

“Don’t gloat,” she says.

“That’s not a very nice welcome, considering I’ve just driven across town at your request.”

“We need to talk terms before I accept any offer.”

I chuckle. “I make the terms, Sunshine, and you already made the offer. Now first, thank me for coming out of my way especially when I clearly told you to stay put.”

It takes her a long minute, but finally, she drops her gaze and says it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Just know there will be payment later. Where is he?” I move around her, but she catches my arm. He eyes betray her alarm.

“You’re not going to hurt him, right? I mean, he’s harmless. He’s not the head of the cartel anymore, Giovanni.”

I look down at where she’s gripping my forearm. “Where is he?”

When she turns, I notice something bulgy in her tight running clothes and halt her by grabbing her arm.

“You can’t think I’m this stupid,” I say, tugging her shirt up and taking the pistol.

“I didn’t put it there for you. I wasn’t sure who’d been here this afternoon. If it was Alessandro.”

“Still, I’ll hold on to this. You don’t have a good track record. Do I need to strip search you? Are you hiding anything else?”

She looks down at herself and gives me an incredulous look. “Where do you think I’d manage to hide something?”

I give her a one-sided grin. “I don’t know. You’re a tricky one.”

“I’m not hiding any more weapons. I promise.”

“Take me to your father.”

I follow her to a room at the back of the house, making a mental map of the property as I pass through. Once we get to the door, she stops, turns to me, and looks like she’s going to say something. Instead she changes her mind and pushes the door open.

The room is simple with not a single picture or poster on the walls. The curtain is drawn over the one small window, and a large hospital bed sits in the center with an old man sleeping on it, hooked up to several machines. He doesn’t stir when Emilia enters. She goes to him and takes his hand.

I follow her in. Earlier today, I’d seen the photos my men sent. It had taken us some time to confirm it was him. He’s a shadow of the man he’d been. Emil Estrella was a force to be reckoned with. This sleeping man is simply an old man. Not a threat. Not even close.

When I look at her, she’s watching me.

Just then, there’s a commotion in the hallway. Instinctively, I draw my weapon and push Emilia behind me as she tries to slip past me and into the hall. An old woman is standing half-way down the stairs. Emilia exhales and closes the door as quietly as she can before going to her.

“It’s okay, Nan. I called these men. They’re going to help us.”

I look at Nan as she looks at each of the men. A moment later, she whispers something to Emilia. When Emilia turns to me, it’s with fisted hands and rage in her eyes.

“It was you?”

“What?” I play dumb.

“The men who were here earlier, it was your men?”

I give her a wide grin, take my eyes off her for a second to holster my weapon and next thing I know, she’s coming at me, arm raised. I’m ready when the flat of her hand collides with my face.

There’s a gasp from behind her. It’s the old woman.

The sting of the slap is nothing like the heat of rage that burns through me.

I narrow my eyes, and Emilia steps back. I see her throat work as she swallows. She hesitated at the last moment, so it wasn’t a hard slap, but it was still a slap and she’ll need to be dealt with. I take the wrist of the offending arm and twist it. “You’ll pay for that later.”