“Nice place,” he commented, though he’d been here before. “Quiet. I haven’t been here in a while.”
“Quiet neighborhood. That’s why I chose it,” I replied.
“I know she’s staying here.” Cenzo’s next words froze me in place.
I kept my face carefully neutral as I turned to face him. “Who?”
Cenzo’s expression didn’t change. “Don’t insult my intelligence. Labria. Lord’s woman.”
“Ex-woman. They are over.” I corrected automatically, then immediately regretted revealing even that much.
“Whatever you want to call it.” He shrugged. “I know she’s staying here, with you.”
I maintained eye contact, fighting the instinct to look away. “She’s at work.”
“You know what I mean.”
I did know, but I wasn’t prepared for this reveal. “How did you know?”
“I’m consigliere. It’s my job to know things,” he answered frankly.
I couldn’t argue with that. “Does Lord know too?”
The question hung between us, weighted with implications neither of us was willing to fully articulate. If Lord knew Labria was with me, the consequences would be severe. If he was anything like the rest of us Bregoli men, he was possessive.
“You should ask her. She’d know better than me.” Cenzo replied.
“What does that mean?”
“It means exactly what I said.” Cenzo’s face remained impassive. “Ask her.”
I felt unease. Labria and I had been careful, or so I thought. We hadn’t been seen together in public. She parked her car in my garage most times. We’d taken every precaution.
“We haven’t discussed Lord much,” I admitted, surprising myself with the candor. “Not really. Not beyond her reason for leaving him.”
Cenzo’s eyebrows rose slightly, the most expression I’d seen from him all morning. “That’s odd, wouldn’t you say? You’re sleeping with your cousin’s lady, and you two don’t talk about him?”
I shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. He was right. It was odd. In the week since Labria had shown up at my door, we’d spoken about many things, her work, my past, my father’s death, but we’d carefully avoided discussing Lord in any detail. I’d attributed it to her pain being too fresh, and to both of us needing space from the complications he represented. Now with Cenzo here, I wondered if there was more to it.
“It’s complicated,” I said finally, knowing how inadequate the words sounded.
“It always is when it comes to these broads.” Cenzo checked his watch, a heavy gold piece that had once belonged to his father. “We should get going. Service starts in forty minutes, and Nicco wants everyone there early.”
I nodded, reaching for my keys, but then his next casual statement stopped me cold.
“To put your mind at ease. Lord won’t be at the funeral, by the way.”
I turned back to him. “What? Why not? He’s the underboss.”
“He should, yes. But he won’t be. Family business required his attention elsewhere.” The way he said it made it clear no further explanation would be forthcoming. I was just a soldier and not privy to everything going on in the organization.
I processed this information, trying to read between the lines. Lord missing his uncle’s funeral. For him to be absent, something major must be happening. Or perhaps there was another reason entirely.
As I followed Cenzo to the door, my mind raced with possibilities. What did he know about Labria that I didn’t? Why would Lord miss the funeral? Was Labria keeping something from me?
“Your father was a complicated man,” Cenzo said as we stepped outside. “Not many will miss him, but family is family. We show respect.”
I locked the door behind us, acutely aware of the secrets contained within those walls. “Yes,” I agreed. “We show respect.”
