“Three?!” I can’t help but blurt my question.
“Yes, my branch is working with another Italian syndicate against two others that are allied by marriage and now by blood.”
I look to my other side and gaze up at Jorge. He’s okay with what has to happen next. We don’t have to speak to communicate. He knows I need to confirm my family’s suspicions about him. As I watch him, he shifts his gaze to Alejandro and Joaquin, his brow furrowing. I turn my attention to them since they’re sitting beside each other. It’s almostimperceptible, but they dip their chin. I look back at Jorge, and he offers me a sad half smile.
“Mutti, Papa, Heidi.”
I look at each one in turn. I study my parents’ expressions, and it’s almost resignation on them. When I look at Heidi, she eyes me suspiciously.
“Friedrich’s not the only one with ties to a syndicate. Jorge and his family are in one too or rather I should say they run one in New York.”
My hand rests upon the table, and Jorge covers it, his fingers sliding under mine until our hands rest palm to palm. He’s reassuring me as he goes into a little more detail.
“It’s not just in New York. Our role is larger than that. It’s why I’ve been able to do what I have and why my brother and cousin can help us.”
I stare at my parents, and neither of them says anything. Heidi and I speak at the same time.
“You’re okay with this?”
We’ve been doing that since we were kids because we’re so much alike. Both of our parents nod, but it’s Papa who speaks up.
“We figured out Friedrich’s connection ages ago because of some of the business he referred to us. His clients were all legal but barely toeing the right side of the line.”
My mom offers Jorge a smile before she picks up where my dad left off. “Jorge’s command of the situation immediately reassured me of who he is. It was more than just confidence from wealth and being a powerful businessman. It was far more than that. Once he said he had the resources to help, I knew what that meant. Papa and I don’t love the danger that goes along with either of you being involved with your boyfriends, but it’s obvious how you feel about each other.”
My mom’s gaze locks with mine. Neither Jorge nor I have declared our feelings beyond saying we care very much about each other. My mom’s basically acknowledging Jorge and I are in love or at least are almost there.
Heidi leans forward, but she says nothing. She must think better of it. I turn my head toward her, and she looks at me. I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but I assume it’s similar to me. She shifts her attention to Friedrich, and I do the same with Jorge. Whatever expression she’s giving Friedrich must be one that says either she forgives him or she needs him.
He pushes back his chair and walks around to our side of the table. He slides into the one to her left. He angles his chair to be as close to Heidi’s as he can. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, and she leans against him. Jorge kisses my temple and squeezes my hand.
I don’t love where the conversation goes next as Jorge explains more. “Liesel, we’re still not sure about who targeted you. We have some ideas, but we’re not positive. We know this war among the Italians targeted you for the money they could launder through your accounts. They used a winding path to get the money to Italy. It didn’t start or stop where we expected.”
“What does that mean?” I’m trying to keep up, but where the hell did any Italian syndicate come from. I remember Hisham explaining the route the money took, and I don’t recall it having anything to do with Italy.
“The money originated here, then went to France, Switzerland, and the Cayman Islands. It’s final destination was Italy. Palermo and Venice. It’s not Friedrich’s family or their ally. It’s the other side because they couldn’t get the money they need to pay for this.”
“Why did it originate here? I still don’t understand why they involved me.”
It’s Friedrich who jumps in, sounding ashamed. “It’s clients of mine who did business with theCosa Nostraand theMala del Brenta.”
All I can do is stare at Friedrich. It’s not like I don’t know how money’s laundered. Even before I became part of this insanely long chain, I knew about it. But I’ve never heard of money going through so many hands. That’s just more opportunities for something to go wrong from a law enforcement agency or one party’s greediness. Jorge draws my attention away from Friedrich as he strokes the back of my hand.
“Friedrich fears they used you to force him back into syndicate life, but not on his family’s side. They know your practically family, so my guess is they assumed they could use you, and Friedrich would do nothing to stand in their way because he wants to protect you.”
It’s way too much to digest. I shift my focus to Friedrich, and he looks like shit. Guilt makes him not want to meet my gaze, but I don’t blame him. I’m certain he didn’t ask for any of this. Not clients who duped him. Not a family who’s in a syndicate. Not endangering me since I’m his girlfriend’s sister, and I was his best friend’s girlfriend. This is a massive weight he bears on his shoulders, so I won’t make it worse.
“So where does that leave us?”
I suspect I know the answer, but I want to hear it from Jorge.
“I need to head back to the States since that’s where at least one of the parties involved in this is from.”
“What about us?”
He stares at me for a long time not saying anything while I await an invitation to go with him. As the seconds tick toward a minute, I realize Jorge’s nervous that I’ll feel rushed into this or that I’ll reject his offer. His anxiety isn’t just from being the center of attention among strangers. I think it plays out even when he’s with friends and family.
I think it’s when he’s not in control of a situation. I wonder if that stems from him watching his father’s murder at such a young age and feeling like he had no control over what happened to his dad. Or maybe it’s because none of his family had control either. Could this be some type of survivor guilt that’s lasted with him two and a half decades? I keep my voice soft and low even though everyone else can hear.
