His head tip was not reassuring. I knew Ringo well enough that he’d just dismissed my warnings and started down his own unique brand of mayhem. “You know your problem, Valentine?”
It was Valentini, but he’d been calling me by the bastardized version of my patronymic since we were eight, so I dismissed the slight and focused my attention to whatever bullshit was going to spout from his mouth next. “I suppose you’re going to tell me.”
“Damn straight. You live like you’re dying.”
That didn’t make sense. “Everyone dies.”
He grunted as if to acknowledge the truth, but carried on. “But if you live like that, it isn’t really living, is it? Take that for an incentive.”
That being the woman in the sheer dress. She’d joined a strikingly similar woman in an almost equally sheer wedding dress. Both women were blonde, tall, model-thin, yet refreshingly wholesome. The one who wore the nude pink gown wore little to no makeup. Her lean face had intriguing angles and possessed a bold nose. Her eyes were a shade of medium color I’d guess as green or hazel but it was hard to tell from this distance. The other was in profile, addressing her wren-like twin with grand gestures and a sway that indicated she was drunk.
Very drunk. Not the first bride to indulge before or after her nuptials. This was Vegas, after all. Perhaps she’d been jilted at the altar? And perhaps her bridesmaid twin was consoling her? Or at least, appeasing her.
Yes, that was what was happening. The more beautiful twin had that stance. She leaned in as if to catch the woman should her sway turn into a slump. Both of her hands were poised to catch. I knew that position well. Ringo was a double handful. And if he were drunk, a whole airbus of hands full.
“The women?” I clarified. Ringo could be talking about something else.
“Twins, man. Do you know what you could do with twins?” He tapped the bar surface emphasizing his words, then sucked in his bottom lip and bit it theatrically.
“We,” I corrected. One was all I wanted to explore at a time, and seeing as they were sisters and likely to talk, one would be all I’d explore if I were even inclined to do so. Two would be… Ringo’s style, not mine.
The side-eye he shot me was filled with disgust. “I swear you were born with that stick up your ass.”
“It’s a code, not a stick.” Honor was a rare thing meant to be upheld with the utmost sobriety and gravity it deserved.
“Your code is going to get you killed. I knew you’d be here doing things by the book. That damn code…”
The women were arguing. One tugging the other toward the slot machines, and the other fighting her and pointing the way toward the exit. Who would win?
“The code has kept me alive.” Not an easy feat when your family was as notorious as mine.
“Well, this time it screwed you.”
Appeasing my father screwed me. Faking interest in that she-devil was an insult. But one I’d now have to swallow to keep the peace. “I’ll fix it.”
Ringo was silent. I’d expected him to laugh.
“You don’t believe me?”
He took a deep breath. “Listen, I’ve known you for… Jesus, twenty-five years. And you can be a real martyr sometimes, but I’ve never known you to be stupid. Dianora Conti? Jesus.”
“It’s not stupid, it’s politics.”
Ringo squared off with me. “Marrying the black widow of Tuscany is not politics, it’s suicide.”
That it was. But it was the only way I’d survive to see next year. And surviving was rule number one of the code. Second was honoring your family. I’d manage both if I could lie well enough.
Lying to family was against the code. I hadn’t done that, yet.
Marrying someone I didn’t love was accepted in the circles I ran in. It didn’t matter that it was against my personal code.
Protecting my grandfather from disgrace? Absolutely in the code.
“If I don’t accept her offer, you’ll have to go through with your contract. Or someone will. And if you fail, they’ll kill you.”
“I don’t fucking care, Val. If someone else gets to you first, I should be dead. And, honestly? I’d want to die anyway. You’re the best, and I’m not just talking logistically. The best friend, the best criminal mastermind, and a much better man than I am.”
“Then why did you take the hit? You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble.”
