“Most of us met in college,” Ryan answers.
Uncle Kevin chuckles. “So this kid–” he hooks his thumb toward Gino, “—convinced all of you to be a part of this?”
“Well, he didn’t have to convince Juliet,” Gabe replies.
Juliet immediately flicks something from her plate at him.
“Oww—jeez, Juliet.” Gabe yelps. “Why did you do that? You know I’m not lying.”
A few of the guys laugh, and just like that, the tension at the table finally starts to ease.
“You’re annoying,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him. Then she adds, more pointedly, “My mother—,” she fixes Gabe with a look, “—is Bianca Nguyen.”
Aunt Lucy freezes. “Your mother—sweet, kind BiancaNguyen—and your father, Henry Tran, let you be a part of this?” she asks, clearly stunned.
Every head at the table turns toward her.
“How—” Juliet starts, but Uncle Kevin cuts in before she can finish.
“Your parents met Antonio in college. That was long before either of you were born. Of course, I know them too.”
Everyone goes a bit speechless. “I think you’ve stunned everyone into silence, sweetheart,” Aunt Lucy says lightly. “Might want to lay off the stories for a bit.” But the look on her face is one I’ve seen before, screaming,I swear to God, if you say too much, I will smack you.
The rest of dinner is fairly quiet, with no more revelations about anyone’s family connections. Once the plates are cleared, the guys drift off to another part of the house, leaving Juliet, Aunt Lucy, and me to tackle the dishes.
“So, Juliet, besides you and Gino, does anyone else live here?” Aunt Lucy asks.
“Nope, just Gino and I. There is a guest house that the Cambio brothers live in just down the road.”
“Mateo doesn’t live here?” I ask.
“No, he lives in the city,” Juliet says. “After Antonio died, Gino wanted him to live somewhere else. He didn’t want himself and his top lieutenant in the same place all the time.”
“That boy is very smart,” Aunt Lucy says approvingly.
“Yes, he is,” Juliet agrees, offering her a soft smile.
Gino steps back into the room. “Vanessa, can I talk to you in private?”
“Uh, sure,” I say.
Gino turns and heads for the stairs, and I follow him up to his office. The room hasn’t been cleaned at all—the cut zip ties are still scattered acrossthe floor.
“Sorry about that, again,” he says, pointing at the chair and zip ties. “Have a seat.”
I sit down on a small couch he has off to the left of his desk. He pulls the chair from behind the desk so he’s facing me directly.
“Listen, I know today has been a lot to take in, but I have to tell you some things that no one else can know yet. Okay?” he says, his tone serious now.
I shake my head in agreement.
But before he can say anything, I start rambling.
“Okay, so what is it?” I blurt. “Is this the part where you tell me how many people you’ve killed? Or that I’m supposed to carry a gun now?” I pause, then keep going. “Wait, are you actually going to give me a gun? Because I’m not really a fan of them. I know how to shoot one, but?—”
He cuts me off. “Vanessa. No. That’s not what I am going to tell you.”
He exhales, shaking his head. “Dad left me a letter too. And I think you should read it.” A wry smile tugs at his mouth. “That son of a bitch was surprisingly intuitive.”
