“And?” I press, glancing back at Sandro before returning my eyes to Raf’s intense face.
“Rumor has it, the Murrays aren’t so happy with the way things shook out with the Tanakas. They didn’t get the split they were promised, and now they’re looking for a reason to get into bedwith someone else.” Raf’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, his tailored Italian suit at odds with the youthful glee in his face.
“That’s great,” I observe, but I can’t muster the same level of enthusiasm because all I can think about is the man Stephanie will be climbing into bed with instead of me tonight.
White-hot jealousy rises up through my core, and though I know it’s entirely unmerited, I want to pummel the man’s face into the ground.
Would it be so wrong to take back what I want?
I’m the patriarch of my family now.
I can—no, Iwill—protect Stephanie and her little boy.
Sure, I might be breaking up a family, but who am I to say that they’re happy?
I can at least tell her how I feel—give her the option.
And if I win her back, then perhaps her husband wasn’t the right man for her to begin with.
Who am I kidding?
Stephanie was born to be mine.
I’ve wanted her from the first moment I laid eyes on her, and as long as she walks this earth, she won’t be rid of me.
I’ll take whatever role I can get in her life.
And I intend to prove that she won’t regret picking me.
“Gio,” Raf says again, annoyance blatant in his tone now.
Sandro shakes his head and grasps his twin’s shoulder. “Let’s go find Miko.”
Raf nods, throwing me a dark scowl. “At leasthe’llgive a damn.”
A twinge of remorse tightens my gut, knowing that I’m doing a terrible job of leading this family, of taking the revenge we’re owed.
But I was never born to bear the crown.
I’ve only ever stood at the sidelines, ready to step in as support.
And now that the responsibility of Don has been thrust upon me, something so much bigger has walked back into my life.
She’s my everything, and I couldn’t care less about lost territory or war when I have the opportunity to feel the touch of the woman I love.
Glancing down at my right palm, I can still feel the residual from our palms meeting, the electric jolt that worked like a defibrillator to my cold, dead heart.
Leave the plotting to my brothers.
They can manage without me.
It’s time to check on Stephanie.
The commute goes by in record time since I decided to take one of Miko’s cars—the Volvo—to avoid calling unnecessary attention to myself.
I park it several blocks away, in front of a house with aFor Salesign, and it tickles the back of my mind that I could buy a house in Stephanie’s neighborhood.
Then I wouldn’t even have to continue my white lie. But perhaps that’s a bit too over the top.
