Ciso glowered at the phone I was slyly sliding into my pocket. ‘You’ve been staring at your damn phone for the last twenty minutes. While these idiots have been boring me to death. I’m this close to fucking someone up for thinking they can tell me how to drive my fucking car.’
His growl was more than a little slurred and the shot he tossed back almost missed his mouth. He’d been drinking steadily since the podium ceremony, even before we left the racetrack.
The Gambler, the exclusive bar Stefano booked, cocky that another win was guaranteed, teemed with corporate guests I was stuck with entertaining. He’d brushed aside my objections and invited all our sponsors across Asia with the promise of a wild victory celebration.
I scanned the room for my errant uncle and wasn’t surprised when I didn’t see him. ‘Where’s Stefano?’
‘Where do you think? Hiding like the weasel he is. He thinks it’s your fault, you know?’ Ciso muttered.
My head snapped to him, unease crawling up my spine. ‘How the hell is this my fault? Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t every projection at the start of the year point to this circuit being the worst for our car?’
Ciso shrugged. ‘Yeah, sure, but…’ He raised his hand to scratch his neck, then gave up at the last second so it thuddedback onto the cushion of the sofa we sat on. ‘He was hoping you’d keep… destabilising Salvatore for a bit longer.’
I felt the blood drain from my head.He didn’t know. Couldn’t know. Too soon. Too soon. Too soon. I’m not ready to give him up.‘Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?’
‘Clearly his losing streak pissed him off and there seemed to be some… friction between you two in Monza. Stefano said it was a good thing. That if you kept doing it we would have an advantage. Even here.’
I tried to swallow around my dry mouth as burning rage warred with relief. ‘Did… did he tell Papa and Bona any of this?’And did they approve that insane call? Was itso insane if it gave me a legitimate in?
Ciso tried to avoid my gaze but I chased it until he had no choice. ‘Maybe. I dunno.’
He knew. So did Sofiya probably.
Hell, it was possible everyone knew what my father and grandfather were plotting but me. I wondered if it was why Roberto hadn’t insisted beyond a token objection last night when I dismissed him and the rest of the security team.
I shook my head, wondering why the knowledge seared when I should have been used to this. When being the last to know was par for the course for me despite my supposed status as consigliere.
‘Sis, I?—’
‘So he’s off somewhere, throwing me under the bus?’
A wave of pity crossed his face and my anger built. ‘He’s probably catching heat of his own.’
‘What about you? What responsibility do you take for coming third seeing as, oh, I don’t know, you were the one driving the damn car?’
He flinched, then his face crumbled into a puppy-dog pout. As the baby of the family and sole male grandchild, it was a well-practised expression that melted hearts and got him out of more shit than I cared to count.
‘Fuck, don’t get mad at me, sis. I’m only telling you what I heard.’
I sucked in a long sustaining breath, my heart thumping as a different thought blossomed. ‘What else have you heard?’
Confusion cut through the pouting. ‘What do you mean?’
I wasn’t proud of it but I hoped he would be too drunk to remember my questions or level of interest in the morning. ‘I know Bona is trying to marry me off. Do you know who to?’ I asked, although what the hell I planned on doing with that information was a mystery. Still, forearmed and all that.
His face scrunched, and he reached for his next shot. ‘Some dude from the Old Country. For your sake I hope he’s not old as fuck.’ He tossed the drink back, slammed the glass down hard enough for it to crack, then patted me on the shoulder. ‘You deserve someone born in the last half millennia at the very least,’ he said, then chuckled.
I glared. ‘I’d like a name, Ciso.’
‘You think they’d tell me?’ he scoffed. ‘Ask Mama. Or maybe Sof?’
Of course Sofiya knew.Of course.
‘I’m going for a leak.’ He staggered upright, stepped away from the table, then careened back, swaying on his feet as he stabbed a thumb over his shoulder. ‘Stay away from that fucker with the combover. He gives me the creeps. Oh, and from Salvatore too. It’s not really worth it, and I’d hate to give Nonno an excuse to lose his shit on all of us. You know that never ends well.’
As much as I wanted to discard it as drunken rambling, his advice was searingly inescapable.
Bonafacio losing his shit and taking things too far was the reason I hadn’t seen Giada in five years. The threat of it was thereason Jacinta had enrolled for post-grad programme after post-grad programme before going back to college one final time to study for the bar exam, then found every reason under the sun to remain in her tiny Manhattan apartment instead of living at home like Sofiya and I were forced to.
