I nodded, but my mind was already drifting elsewhere. To Labria. To her packing up her things from our house. To her staying with Maurizio, sleeping in his house, under his roof. The thought made my blood boil.
“Lord?” Nicco’s sharp voice pulled me back. “Are you with us?”
“Yeah,” I forced myself to focus. “Good strategy. But Tom’s smart. He might suspect a trap.”
“That’s why we’re not pinning all our hopes on this,” Nicco replied. “It’s just one approach among many.”
Cenzo tucked the paper back into his folder, and his expression shifted, softening in a way I rarely saw. “On a different note,” he said, “Brittany had her first ultrasound yesterday.”
The shift in topic caught me off guard. I raised an eyebrow. “Right. You have a baby on the way with a teenager. Everything good?”
Cenzo ignored my insult, and a rare smile spread across his face, transforming his usually hard features. “She’s twenty years old. And everything is perfect. Strong heartbeat. She’s about eight weeks along.”
“Congratulations,” I said, genuinely meaning it despite my darkened mood. “You’ll going to be the father of two.”
“God help me,” Cenzo muttered. “She’s talking about names already. Even bought a few books. I haven’t told my son he’s going to be a big brother yet.”
“And I’m sure you haven’t mentioned your new baby mama is three years older than him.” Nicco joked.
“No, brother, I haven’t.” Cenzo huffed, genuinely embarrassed by the oral revelation.
Nicco leaned back in his chair. “The Bregoli family grows stronger. Father would be proud.”
I nodded, feeling a pang of something I couldn’t quite identify. Envy? Regret? I’d always assumed I’d have children with Labria someday. Now, that future was crumbling before my eyes.
“She has another appointment in two weeks,” Cenzo continued. “They’ll do more tests, make sure everything’s developing right.”
“Keep us updated. We can never have enough Bregoli’s.” Nicco said and then turned to me. “Now, what’s your assessment of Primo LaGrassa’s situation after losing his nephew?”
Grateful for the return to business, I straightened in my chair. “Primo’s shaken. Tino was his late brother’s son. Primo feels that his death leaves them vulnerable, especially with the feds watching their online activities closely.”
“What are you suggesting?” Nicco asked.
“We send some monetary compensation for their loss. Primo also wants us to arrange a marriage for his illegitimate daughter. He says she’s a virgin.” I tapped my fingers against the armrest.
Cenzo nodded. “Makes sense. I forgot he had that other daughter. The LaGrassa’s have been loyal. Dom always said we protect our allies.”
“Agreed,” Nicco said. “Make the arrangements, Lord. But keep it quiet. We don’t need anyone thinking we don’t take care of our people. We can arrange to marry her off to a soldier. I haven’t seen his daughter in years. I need a picture of her.”
“I’ll take care of it,” I promised, my mind already calculating. “I spoke with Lolita while I was there. She seemed confident they could manage with some additional support.”
At the mention of Lolita’s name, Nicco gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher. There was something knowing in his eyes, something that made me uneasy.
“Speaking of support,” I said, my voice dropping slightly as I finally allowed myself to approach the topic that had been burning in my mind. “I understand you provided some to Labria this week.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Cenzo shifted his weight, sensing the change in atmosphere. Nicco’s expression remained neutral, but his dark eyes hardened, meeting mine directly.
“That’s right,” he confirmed without apology. “I did.”
“You provided a moving truck and men to help her pack her shit and leave me,” I stated as I leaned forward in my chair.
“I’m trying to keep the peace.”
I’d spent three days in New York pretending everything was fine, making deals and shaking hands, all while knowing Nicco was helping Labria erase our life together. “That seems like something you should have discussed with me first, brother.”
Nicco’s expression remained impassive. “It was a practical solution to a family problem.”
“Practical?” I repeated, the word like acid on my tongue. “You helped my woman move out of the house we share while I was away on family business.”
