“You covet her.”
“When she’s free, yes.” No point evading the truth his uncle already knew.
“When I offered to bring your wife back to you—bring a mother back to her son—you turned me down. Flat. Your wife who absconded in the night with another man. But you come to me now for help taking another woman from her husband.”
That had been the most tense conversation Carlo had ever had with him. Uncle Ben had been insulted and bitterly frustrated. That Carlo had let Jenny go, let her leave Trey and hadn’t fought for her—Uncle Ben had seen that as emasculating weakness. Now, bringing it up, he’d phrased a statement, an observation instead of a question, so Carlo didn’t respond. He held his uncle’s eyes and waited. Sometimes, the best way to show strength was to wait.
“How long have you not been having your way with her?”
Carlo resisted the nervous urge to swallow. “I met her Friday.”
From the side of the room, Fred Naldi laughed—one surprised syllable. Carlo ignored him. Uncle Ben had not reacted visibly to his admission.
“What is it you want, Junior?”
“I want her safe.”
Uncle Ben sighed. “Terms, boy.”
Ah. When he’d been told to meet here, at his warehouse office, and not in Uncle Ben’s home, in his study, Carlo had known that he’d be making a business arrangement, not asking for a family favor. Family favors—as when Uncle Ben had offered to bring Jenny ‘home where she belonged’—had leeway that business arrangements did not. What Carlo was doing here was making a bargain, and there was not much difference between bargaining with Don Pagano and dealing with the Devil. Clear terms, as detailed as possible, or you’d find yourself soulless and up to your ass in flames for eternity.
“I want her free of him and safe to live a life of her choosing.”
“You want her for yourself?”
“I want her free to make that choice. What I want is for her marriage to Auberon to be invalidated, and I want her safe to live a life without fear of reprisals. Whether I have her then or not is her choice. That’s what I want.”
“You ask a great deal, nephew. We do business with her husband. You know this. He is a man of great influence and power. You know this as well. You risk much—and not only for yourself—to take him on, even through us. You know that asking us to take such a risk on your behalf will come with a high price. For a woman you barely know. Are you sure?”
“Uncle, he hurts her.” He had nothing else to say, and he hoped it would be enough. He thought it might. Uncle Ben’s firstborn daughter, Lita, had been terribly abused by her college boyfriend. Horribly. When she’d come home, weeping and broken inside and out, Ben had rained fire over an entire fraternity house. And what he’d wrought on the boyfriend himself had been medieval.
Men who hurt women had a special place in Ben Pagano’s hell.
“You know this to be true?”
“Yes. I’ve seen the marks. And I saw it happen. He hurt her in public, and people just watched. They let him.”
“Did you watch?”
“No. I stopped it. Then, at least.”
Uncle Ben cocked his head and looked hard at Carlo. Finally, he nodded. “I understand your terms. You understand mine. You pay the price I assign, when I assign it.”
“Yes. I ask that if this arrangement helps the family, you take that into consideration when assigning the price.”
Ben’s face split into a broad, proud smile—Carlo had made a shrewd amendment. “Good. Yes, I agree.” The smile disappeared. “And if it hurts the family—business or personal—I will take that into consideration as well. You understand that the latter is more likely?”
“Yes.”
Uncle Ben stood and stretched his hand across his desk. “Then we make this agreement.”
Carlo stood and shook his uncle’s gnarled, spotted, but still strong hand. The deal had been struck.
~oOo~
Before Carlo could close the heavy front door, Trey barreled into the entry from the kitchen and straight into his legs. “Daddy! Daddy I want to go sailing and look for sharks!”
The family had a little twenty-foot sloop docked in the harbor. It got a lot of use in the summer. But Carlo wasn’t in the mood to go sailing. He needed some time to think and come to terms with what he’d done, and he wanted to figure out a way to contact Bina. He’d checked the call log on the phone last night, but her number had come up blocked.