Chapter 7: The Back Seat

Alessio did not raise his voice.

He bent, picked up a long curved piece of the broken glass by its stem, and held it out to Salerno across the table.

"Your reserve, Victor. Finish what's left of it."

Salerno looked at the glass and did not take it.

"An accident," he said. "The girl is nervous."

"Then drink to her health."

The waiter who had brought the glass had gone gray, and he was backing toward the kitchen door.

Rocco's gun turned to follow him without a word.

For a long moment nobody in the room moved.

Then Salerno laughed, loud and warm, and clapped his hands once.

"You always were dramatic, Alessio. Sit down. Eat. We'll talk about the cellar another night."

"We're leaving," Alessio said.

He took my hand and pulled me up.

"If anyone in this building touches her, I'll burn it down with all of you inside. Rocco, the car."

Nobody stopped us.

I walked out through the kitchen with my hand in his and a wall of Salerno's men watching from both sides.

Gregory had not moved from his chair.

He was looking at me with a small, shut, thoughtful face I had never seen on him before.

Then the heavy back door closed.

The black car idled in the alley with its rear door already open.

Rocco shut the partition behind us without being asked and pulled out into the street.

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