“Sure,” I grumble before looking at the men at my table. “Let’s get this over with.”
As Uncle Dario deals the hand, he says, “Thanks for giving Raffaele to Rosie.”
“You’re welcome.” When I give him an expectant look, he chuckles.
“That’s all I have to say. My daughter is happy, and we have someone fully trained to handle all the meetings.”
“Okay.” I glance at my father and other uncles.
“Any leads on who tried to assassinate you?” Uncle Damiano asks, his tone brisk as always. The man might have a heart of stone, but he’d take a bullet for any of us.
“No. I called Tanaka the other day to ask him about it. His surprise and anger sounded legit.”
“Maybe he’s a good actor,” Uncle Damiano mutters as he picks up the cards. He glances through the stack, then shoots Uncle Dario a glare. “I will rip off your nutsack. What am I supposed to do with this shit?”
“Lose,” Uncle Dario chuckles, a broad grin on his face as he looks at his own hand of cards. “Mine’s not bad at all.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Uncle Angelo grumbles, seemingly not happy with his hand.
It’s been a running joke since I can remember. They give Uncle Dario shit at every poker game.
Where Rosie is like a baby sister to all of us, Uncle Dario is like a baby brother to my father and uncles. The La Rosa family is the heartbeat of the Cosa Nostra. We’d all be fucked without their hacking skills.
“Christiano told me what went down in Tokyo when you met with Tanaka,” Uncle Damiano gets back to the topic of the Yakuza. “I find it weird that he gave up his daughter to establish peace with us but didn’t ask for anything in return.” His sharp gaze flicks to my face. “Maybe the daughter is feeding him information.”
I shake my head. “Yuki has no contact with her father.”
“How do you know? Have you checked her phone?” Uncle Renzo asks.
“I bought her the phone, and the only numbers on it are mine and my mother's. She uses the same password I programmed into the device when I set it up for her.” I check my cards and throw two back onto the table. “I trust my wife.”
We play a round of poker before Uncle Damiano asks, “So if Tanaka isn’t behind the attack, who is?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I’m looking into the Chinese and Koreans. One of them might be pissed off about the arranged marriage between the Yakuza and Cosa Nostra.”
“You make a good point.” He looks at me again, his eyes flicking over my face. “Try to get to the bottom of it as quick as possible. You look like shit and need to take a break.”
“Now you sound like my father,” I grumble.
“That’s because it’s all he fucking complains about every time I see him,” Uncle Damiano says while shooting Dad a glare.
“Don’t talk shit,” Dad says, a smile tugging at his mouth. “You talk just as much about Christiano working himself into the ground.”
“What about me?” Christiano asks from the other table.
“Our fathers want us to sit on our asses while the Cosa Nostra burns to the ground,” I get to the heart of it.
“I’ll shoot you in the leg, then you’ll be forced to take time off,” Uncle Damiano threatens me.
I chuckle because he’s all threats and no action when it comes to us.
“That’s enough talk about work. Are we going to play so I can take all your money?” Uncle Dario asks, wagging his eyebrows at us.
I finish the whiskey in my tumbler and get up. “I need another drink.”
On my way to the liquor cabinet, I stop by the other table, and putting my hand on Georgi’s shoulder, I squeeze hard while leaning down. “For the rest of the year, I’m putting you next to Uncle Damiano at every game I host.”
My friend lets out a burst of laughter, and getting up as well, he walks with me to refill his glass. Adriano also joins us, and while we pour our drinks, Georgi says, “It’s been months since you’ve hung out with us. We used to spend every weekend together.”
