“You’re not going because I said you’re not. If things go south, I want you safe. If someone touches you, I’ll be facing a death sentence for killing a human.” Rémy’s eyes were grim, and his mouth set in a tight line.
Ian glanced over at Sean hoping for some support from that quarter. “Ian was there when Sal asked for the money at his father and brother’s wake. Shouldn’t he be able to face his assailant?”
Rémy repositioned himself on the sofa moving closer to Ian who was clearly miffed. “Sal isn’t going to be there. Things will be taken care of by Frank Ferone, the head of the mob in the city. Armand asked me to go only as a courtesy.”
Ian seemed as if he was going to try to press his point, but Sean gave him an almost imperceptible shake of his head.