Luca observed me and realized I wasn’t kidding.
“Everyone, leave,” he stated. Everyone but Emilio left the room. “Emilio, remember what we spoke about the other day?”
“I do,” he replied.
“Bethany would make a good match.”
“It would be more convincing than the match with Gabe.”
Luca paused to think, then nodded his head. “How can we convince Gian Morrechi to marry his nephew to Bethany?”
Morrechi was the third most powerful family in the country under us, DeCarlos and the Baricellis. They were based out of Connecticut.
“I have blackmail on the kid,” Emilio replied, not looking at me.
Luca glances at Emilio, who has moved into his line of vision. “What kind of blackmail?”
“Something he wouldn’t want anyone to know. Or the Morrechi himself, for that matter.”
“Like what?”
“The kid is into pegging. Not very good reputation for anyone in this lifestyle.”
“What the fuck is pegging?” Luca asked.
Emilio leaned in and whispered into his ear. Seeing my brother’s expression, I had to hold back from laughing.
“He’s a sick bastard,” Luca said in disgust. “You got proof?”
“I do.”
“How did you come about this information?”
“I had the blonde get it on film when he came to visit Chicago a short time ago.”
The blonde? Who was he referring to?
“She pegged him?”
Emilio laughed, “You want the details?”
“No,” Luca replied.
“Grace is good at what she does.”
Grace. The blonde. It clicked. She was coming out of Emilio’s condo that night. It wasn’t him that she was messing with. She was just droppingoff the evidence. Emilio was always a step ahead and had something up his sleeve ready to be used to their advantage.
Luca’s interest was piqued. “B, are you sure?”
I nod my head. “I’m sure.”
It wasn’t like me to agree blindly to something like this, but it was better than being stuck in this limbo period with Luca. I was just hoping the guy was half-good-looking, and although his sexual experiences are different from what I prefer, I think I can manage. The pegging would have to be done by someone else, though. That, for me, was crossing the line.
“Set it up,” Luca stated to Emilio.
“Consider it done.” Emilio got to his feet and left the room without so much as looking at me.
He didn’t pay me any attention. I expected him to fight the decision or make another suggestion, but no, he would let this marriage happen. And just like that, I felt my heart break again. Why do my expectations get the best of me?
