Falling for an Italian Mobster

Ch 2: Pt I - Red Wine & Kill Shots

"What're you guys doing here?" I managed, leaning up against the door frame so I wouldn't sway.

"Imagine our surprise when Tony calls to tell us about some abusive ex-fiancée." He traded a look with Hector. "You know, because no one knew you were even engaged." Out of all my cousins, Sal and Hector were the less likely to overreact. So it was good that Tony had only called them. He'd been mad, but not mad enough to call my mother.

"So we called Marco." Jesus Christ. Marco was exactly like his father, my Uncle Markos – fist happy with anger issues. Derek would be lucky to walk away when Marco was finished with him.

"Tony misunderstood." I lied, dread rising with the vomit I didn't think I could hold back much longer. "Marco doesn't need to come here-"

"That's the problem." Hector started quietly. He rarely spoke because he hated wasting words. "He's already on the way because of the reunion, so he'll just make a pitstop here on his way in."

"Reunion?" I asked, glancing between the two of them. "What are you talking about?"

"Grampa Sal called a family reunion." Sal answered, trading another look with Hector. That was never good. They were lying and hiding something from me. But what, aside from the reunion?

"I'm not in the family business so why do I have to be there?"

"It's half family, half business." I frowned. Mom hadn't mentioned this last week when we'd spoken, and for her brother and nephews to know, she had to have known. To be sure this wasn't a last-minute thing. Grandpa Sal was a meticulous planner. Nothing was last minute with him, ever. "Everyone has to be there."

"When-"

"We leave in the morning." I frowned. "It's in Louisiana so pack for the heat."

"You just said Marco was coming and he was going to stop here on his way in." I accused, their facts not adding up in my drunk, overthinking brain. "So tell me what the fuck is really going on, or I won't be going."

"You have to." Sal argued, running a hand through his hair.

"Why? I'm not involved in any of the family business-"

"Grandpa Sal wants the whole family together when he announces how things will play out once he's gone. He's got stage four lung cancer, Sierra. Doctors say he has about two months tops because the cancer is spreading to the other organs around his lungs. This is it, Sierra. Your little hiatus away from the family business is over. It's time to come home."

Sal and Hector cleaned up my foot, my bathroom, cleaned out my fridge of leftovers, and even took the third bottle of wine for their cupcakes on their way out the door, promising to be back tomorrow to take me 'shopping'. They'd looked in my closet to pack for me this morning when they'd gotten in while I was at work. Apparently, after seeing that I mostly had business or business casual clothing, they'd decided I needed a new wardrobe. Thankfully, because I'd gotten a two bedroom and turned the second bedroom into an office, I didn't have extra room for them to spend the night. I waited until they were in the elevator going down before rushing to my room to grab my cell.

He answered on the first ring.

"My favorite niece. What can I do for you tonight, sweetheart?" My father's brother, Uncle Gonzalo, answered cheerfully.

"That offer you gave me five years ago still good?" I whispered, though I knew I was alone. Having them in the same city as me always made me paranoid.

"Of course." He sounded suspicious now. "What's going on?"

"Just figured I'd reach out-"

"Cut the bullshit. You're drunk, and you of all people are calling me at eleven o-clock on a Tuesday. You're normally asleep by nine, and you don't week-drink. You make double figures at that desk job, so why do you want to know about any job I've offered you in the past?" Out of either side of my family, Uncle Gonzalo was my favorite. Mainly because he listened to me and what I had to say instead of just pushing his own agenda.

"Figures-"

"Just tell me, and I can help you."

"Grandpa Sal called a family reunion." I started, dropping down onto the end of my bed. "I don't know why, other than he has cancer. But I'm worried, because they're sending Marco to collect me – so I figured they have orders to bring me no matter what I say."

"You think Salvatore is setting you up?" Grandpa Sal had done a lot in his day, accumulated many enemies. I'd lost four cousins in a car bombing when we were teenagers. That had been the only reason Grandpa Sal allowed me to distance myself from the family. But I was the last granddaughter he had alive. And having Marco come didn't bode well. There had to be something going on here, something that Sal and Hector probably didn't even know about. Marco and I had been thick as thieves growing up, until we split – me for a desk job, and him back and forth between the US and Italy, working for Grandpa Sal, naturally. After that, Marco had taken a step away from me. He was practically a stranger now.

"He's got a couple months left, Sal said. And Mom didn't mention anything to me last week when I called, or two weeks before that. Dad hasn't said anything to you, has he?"

"No, Jamie hasn't. Salvatore having cancer is news to me." I frowned even deeper at his words. He took a moment to reflect on what he'd just said. "You're right. Jamie would have told me that his father-in-law had cancer. If only to get Dad's support if Salvatore's associates need it now and after his passing. When word gets out that Salvatore has cancer, his enemies will swarm like flies to try and steal his empire away." My father's father, Grandpa Andres, was Spanish – Mexican – and dabbled in the Mexican Cartel. That was how my parents met, actually – Grandpa Andres and Grandpa Sal met to talk business, and my parents had fallen in love.

"So, do you think I'm right and something's going on?"

"Yes." He cleared his throat before continuing. "You want to be my assassin, I'm all for it. But if you're doing it so you can avoid having to agree to whatever Salvatore has cooked up, you won't be happy, Sierra. This isn't a situation where the lesser of two evils will do."

"I'm a Campoz." I started, having made up my mind. "Who's to say I haven't been working for you for five years?"

"I see." He sounded amused now. "I have a guy-"

"You mean Emeril down the hall?" He chuckled. "He hasn't changed much since I was in high school, Uncle Gonzalo. I recognized him the first time we crossed paths in the lobby." Still as handsome with that typical all-American look – brown curls, bright blue eyes and dimples.

"Yes. Emeril's been watching over you. If you are serious about this, I can have him at your door in five minutes."

"You already have targets lined up for me?"

"Emeril's been taking care of it. I figured if I gave you enough time, Salvatore would push you in my direction. All I had to do was wait."