Page 79 of The Beast Who Broke Me
It’s no more negotiable than the ring.
Caligula holds Big Mike’s gaze. “That’s a discussion for another time. As I said, I’m not asking anyone to take their oaths tonight. But what Iamasking for is information. Someone tried to kill me yesterday at my grandfather’s townhouse.”
That gets a reaction. Muttering, shifting, glances exchanged.
“It’s not the first attempt,” he continues. “Someone has been sending people after me for months. None of them are professionals. Does anyone know who could be behind it?”
One of the older men clears his throat. “I heard something a few weeks back. Through my nephew, who does some work for the Rossi Family. Someone’s been putting the word out at street level. Cash for information on where to find you.”
“How much cash?” I ask.
“Not much. Couple hundred, maybe. Gutter money.”
Nothing else surfaces. Caligula thanks them, tells them to report anything to Ferraro. The Loyalists file out. Ferraro starts to clear the bread and oil, but Caligula stops him.
“I’d like the key to this place, Strike.” The old man hands it over without a peep. “Thank you. Now I’d like a moment alone.”
Ferraro does as ordered, not even taking the bread and oil with him, so that a second later it’s just me and the Clemenza looking at each other in a rundown room with bad lighting.
“Okay,” I say, “what the hell are you playing at? Making nice with the Morellis, lying about the ring?—”
“Didn’t you hear me?” he asks calmly. “I want some time alone. Go and wait in the car.”
“I’m not your fucking dog. You don’t order me around.”
He looks at me. Those golden eyes have heat in them again at last. “Let me play at being Don Clemenza in my new dollhouse, Dami. Just for a little while.” His voice is light, teasing.
His face is anything but.
Dollhouse. That was my word, spat at him in the basement, standing over him while he was chained and naked and…
I don’t know if I want to strangle him or applaud.
“It’s not safe in here,” I tell him. “But have it your way. That’s what you want to hear, right?”
I slam the door behind me. I hear the deadbolt turning as I stomp down the stairs.
Outside, the December air hits me hard, but it doesn’t cool anything. I stand on the curb with my breath smoking out in front of me and try to figure out what I’m angry about. That he played Boss so well? That he threw the basement in my face, and I deserved it? That he commanded that crowd better than men twice his age, a few days after I broke him?
Or maybe I didn’t break him at all.
Maybe all I broke was the thing holding him back.
CHAPTER 27
CALIGULA
I keptit together while everyone was here, but now my hands are shaking again. I sit on the sofa, the sagging springs giving way under my weight, and let out a long breath.
The olive oil and bread that Strike brought for the ceremony are still on the coffee table. I’ve never seen it done, but my father told me about it once. The oil, the bread, the vow. Sacred things, done in back rooms by men with blood on their hands.
I expected to feel like a complete fraud, but everything seemed…
Right.
It felt natural to order them around, even though most of them were so much older than me. And to my relief, it felt completely natural to think and strategize in the moment. Letting that Morelli plant in, for example. Strike and Dami both protested, but neither could see the bigger picture.
I’ll deal with the Morellis in due course.
