Dark Soul Vol. 4 by Aleksandr Voinov Read Free Book Online

would be too raw and open and definitely too suspicious, so he didn’t.
    By the time he returned to the house, he felt miserable. If there had been a way to avoid this, he would have. Which was ironic; half his job as the boss was to mediate conflicts. But it was one thing to tell two pissed-off capos how to reach a compromise (and sometimes order them to), and another to face Donata.
    She was sitting in the kitchen, salad finished, sipping white wine.
    Stefano went to the fridge, rifled through it, but couldn’t find any appetite anywhere in his body. He was just doing it to do something.
    Anything, really.
    “Stefano, I think we have to talk,” she said, with none of the accusation he’d feared.
    “Sure.” He sat down opposite, shook his head when she indicated the bottle. He never drank when he had to think fast on his feet. It would have been a really bad habit in his position. He’d even hated the fuzziness from the painkillers. “What’s up?”
    She shook her head. “I should ask you that.”
    Fair enough. She was playing it close to the vest. “Explain.”
    She sighed. “You haven’t been the same recently.” She turned the wine glass in her fingers, looking at the liquid, then set it down and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I thought it had to do with what’s going on in your job. The restlessness, the bad sleep, you sneaking out of bed in the dead of night and returning hours later.
    I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to pressure you. I didn’t want to add to that. I know you’re working hard and take things personally, and with Vince hurt and Cesare . . .” She sighed again, deeper this time. “I still don’t want to add to your load. But I think it started before it got that bad.”
    “The Russians have been plaguing us for months.”
    “There’s always something going on in your life,” she shot back.
    “But you always dealt with it. Never lost sleep, and God Almighty knows there’ve been some rough times.”
    “Are you telling me I’m getting soft?” Trust a woman to turn the dagger in the wound.
    “Stefano, you are soft, certainly compared to your father. But that’s not a bad thing. I’ve always preferred you for that, you know.
    You are gentler than a great many men in your position or the family.
    You care about people. You’re good with people. You can mingle in polite society and not stand out like some thug. But recently, you’ve been all over the place. Scattered, worn, really . . . really preoccupied.
    That’s so not you.”
    Where’s my sharp, carefree, macho husband? Wasn’t that what it translated to? Stefano rubbed his face. “Maybe I just need an extended holiday. We could go somewhere. Even Paris. Whatever.
    Change of scenery.”
    “Running away won’t help.” She gave a sad smile. “Stefano, what’s wrong? And don’t tell me it’s nothing. You’ve really changed, and I don’t like it.”
    I’m scared to tell you because I might lose you, him, and my life. “I can’t talk about it.” I really can’t. If you want to think I have a mistress, then think it. I wish it were that simple.
    “God, but you look absolutely miserable.” She bit her lower lip.
    “Who is she?”
    “Donata . . .”
    “You’re good at covering your tracks, I’ll give you that.” She stood, her features hard now, which detracted nothing from her beauty. “I just wish you’d own up to it. Isn’t that the thing with mafia men— they’re all bark, no bite when it comes to owning up to it?”
    Ouch. “I don’t have a mistress, Donata. I swear.”
    She measured him, and the sinking feeling in his stomach came from the knowledge that he didn’t pass the test. “I don’t believe you.”
    Well, technically . . . “What do you want from me?”
    “Own up to it. I can live with a cheater, but not with a coward.”
    Where did women learn to hit all the sore spots in just one conversation? Then again, Silvio was pretty good at that too. Men kill