Geno had arranged for several cars, so Valentino had his wife all to himself, although the restaurant was close—too close, as far as he was concerned. “Want to get you back home so I can be alone with you, baby—too many around us all the time.”
She laughed softly. “I agree, but you will love everything about this place.”
The car pulled up to the front of the restaurant, and Emme slid out, Valentino right behind her. She stood on the curb a moment while the others also got out of their cars. Val looked cautiously around, being subtle about it. The bodyguards did the same, taking in the rooftops and surrounding buildings. Dario walked a few steps from them, looking at the restaurant itself.
The building was large and made of stone. It looked on the outside as if it had once been a warehouse sandwiched between other warehouses. The city had crept into the district, overtaking the boho lifestyle, claiming the large buildings, turning them into smaller boutiques or larger galleries so that shops were flourishing all along the streets.
Emmanuelle’s hand slipped out of his as she tipped back her head to try to get a better view of the front of the restaurant. “This is so cool, Val. It really was a warehouse before Geno, Salvatore and Lucca had it renovated. Salvatore is really interested in design. He came up with the idea and kind of sold it to his brothers. He found the warehouse, and they bought it. Lucca found the architect to work with them. According to Salvatore, he was quite brilliant. Wait until you see the inside. You’ll agree completely.”
As she spoke enthusiastically, indicating the front of the building, she moved around Dario to step back from the shrubbery so she could gaze up where the scrollwork was etched into the stone.
Val turned to look where she indicated, but the sound of tires screeching and catching had Levi and Axel both spinning and moving fast, and him turning back toward Emmanuelle. A car lurched, boring straight at them, then jumping the curb, heading right at Emme. She had her back to it. He reached out for her wrist, his heart in his throat, intending to yank her to safety.
“Emme, get out of there,” Stefano yelled.
Dario slammed into her, sending her into Valentino’s arms. Dario landed on top of the two of them, with Levi and Axel over the top of them, weapons drawn, aimed at the car. The driver managed to get control before he hit the restaurant. He turned off the car and got out, crouching down to put one hand over his face.
“Is everyone all right? The accelerator got stuck. I tried to stop it with the emergency brake. I thought I was going to kill all of you.” He started to stand, and his legs gave out. “I’m afraid I’m going to get sick. Tell me everyone’s all right.”
“We have a few questions for you,” one of Geno’s bodyguards said smoothly. “We’ll have the car towed as well. Don’t worry, we’ll get you home.”
Levi and Axel stepped back to allow Dario and Valentino up so they could help Emmanuelle off the ground. She was immediately ushered into the restaurant.
“Do accelerators really get stuck, Val?” she asked.
“Sometimes, but not that often,” he answered honestly. “We’ll find out. Geno’s men are on it. Right now, we’re going to have a really nice dinner and hear what your cousin has to say about the Messina connection to the trafficking ring. Miceli was adamant that Marco was the brains behind the entire network. He met with him and got the details from him. He was told his father was not involved, nor were his brothers. This was his baby, and he’d developed the idea while he was in college. Angelo backed him up separately. They weren’t in the same room and were interrogated at different times. There was no way Angelo, in particular, would have held anything back.”
Valentino felt the little shiver that crept down Emmanuelle’s spine. He rubbed her back as they followed the hostess through the restaurant toward their private room. Salvatore’s concept was unique and quite beautiful. The floor was cobblestone. The warehouse had been utilized by bringing in intriguing archways of stone to define the various spaces. The tables were covered in bright red-checked cloth. The chairs were comfortable-looking, sporting black legs and high backs. Overhead, rows of glass lights lit the restaurant spaces.
As they made their way through the very spacious restaurant, he glimpsed two bars, both boasting racks of wines. There was a space designated for a family area, with more booths and a bar that held sparkling drinks rather than those catering to adults. Valentino had never seen that before.
They went through several stone archways to the back room where Salvatore and Lucca waited for them. After greeting them and waiting for their hostess to leave, Salvatore announced the room was clean. They made small talk until the bread and hors d’oeuvres were on the table with wine.
“I spent time following Marco,” Geno said as he put several pieces of bread on his plate. “I’m absolutely convinced it isn’t him. Salvatore was assigned Tibberiu, the father, and the oldest brother, Alessandro.” He looked expectantly at his brother.
Salvatore shook his head. “If either of those two are involved, they certainly aren’t talking about it to anyone. One would think if part of their pipeline went down in a big way, they would be all over that, but these two never so much as mentioned it. They talked about Val, and how strong a leader he was. Tibberiu hoped he could keep the entire Saldi territory in line. He said with Miceli out of the way, the territory was huge under one man. He was worried about that, and Alessandro agreed with him. They talked about possibly bringing up the idea with the other families of cutting that territory into two and putting someone else in as the head there.”
Val shook his head. “That’s not going to happen.” He looked at Dario. A Saldi, heir to that empire. A man he trusted and a leader. Dario returned his look with a deadpan stare. So far, that was a complete no, but he wasn’t giving up.
“It doesn’t make sense that both Miceli and Angelo named Marco. They met with him. Saw him face-to-face.” Val took another bite of the bread. Emmanuelle was right. The bread was delicious. Salty. Buttery. He glanced at Emme and saw her watching him. He nodded at her and smiled. She gave him her sassy little grin. “Marge as well.”
“One of his other brothers? Do they look enough like him to pull off a deception?” Vittorio asked.
Lucca shook his head. “I checked both of the other brothers, Giovi and Vincenzu. Like Alessandro, they’re as hard as nails, like their father, but no way are they involved. Nor do they look like Marco. They couldn’t pass themselves off for him at all. I’m sorry, Val, but this is a dead end. The Messina family is not who you’re looking for.”
Val frowned, exchanging long looks with Dario, and then Stefano and Vittorio. All of them had taken part in the interrogations of Miceli and Angelo over several days. None of it had been pretty or nice. All of them were certain the information had been correct. Marge had also named Marco. One of the lower-level informants had also given Marco’s name.
“It isn’t that difficult anymore to impersonate someone,” Emmanuelle said. “Actors do it all the time. You study their mannerisms, the way they walk, the kinds of language they use, the tilt of their head when they talk. You need a lot of video, and you watch it over and over. You listen to the sound of their voice. You have to have the same body type, obviously.”