“I’ve heard of the power structure you recently created here with them.” He inclines his chin toward their table. “Very impressive that you were able to negotiate and secure that. Stefano underestimates your strength and your worth.”
I remain silent. I agree, but I’m not airing my family’s dirty laundry with him. I’ll always remain loyal to my family because family is everything to me.
However, I do tell him, “It was because of Gina.”
I say it for two reasons. One, because I’ll always give credit where credit is due. And two, because I want to taunt him to rile him up, because I’m an asshole.
He doesn’t emotionally respond to the bait, though, and arches an eyebrow. “How so?”
“At the dinner at Caruso’s house, when she asked, ‘Wouldn’t peace be more profitable?’ and what it would take to bring a ceasefire and peace.”
He had condescendingly dismissed her comments, telling her she was naïve. Many in our world view women as pawns to the powers-that-be by merging families through marriage, or as pretty ornaments to be looked at, not heard.
But I can see he’s impressed, either by Gina herself or because I acted on the idea. Likely the latter, as Vincenzo tends to be as misogynistic as they come.
But I’ve brought up the elephant in the room: Gina.
My wife.
He eyes me over the rim of his glass. “So, tell me more about how you lied to me about having no idea where Gina was.”
“I lied.” I shrug as if that’s an explanation enough.
The finger wearing his family’s Don ring twitches. “Why?”
“She’s my wife.”
His eyes fall to my wedding band before lifting back to mine. “A ploy—”
“Not a ploy, Vincenzo. It’s legal. And binding,” I add, letting a threat leak into my tone.
“Why would you marry her and break the contract with the Altera family?”
“Why do you care?” I counter, testing him.
“Because…”
Guilt flashes over his face, and it has me instantly seeing red.Is what Caruso told Gina true? Does Vincenzo want her? To be his whore; his to loan out to others?
Every instinct is telling me he’s not that kind of man, but my emotions are starting to rule.
Before I can pull out my gun and shoot him between the eyes right here, he says, “Because she’s not safe.”
Iknow that, but what does he mean, or what does he know?
“Are you working with Caruso?” I ask, no longer beating around the damn bush.
“Arturo said Gina has amnesia,” he says instead of answering.
My jaw ticks as my rage grows. “Are you working with Caruso?” I repeat.
“No.” He sets his wineglass down on the table. “But my father was.”
“Where is Caruso and Leandro?”
“My estate in Catanzaro.”
It’s a feat that I’m not over the table, ripping his throat out with my bare hands. Marco catches my eye from a table positioned close enough if things go to shit. He sits with Silvio, who came from LA to attend this meeting along with Salvo, who I promoted to my head of security, and Vincenzo’s inner circle.
