I look away immediately.
The past should stay in the past. For everybody’s sake.
Especially mine.
2
NICO
The advantage of sitting at the head of the table is that no one notices what you are looking at.
Or who.
From here, I can see the entire dining room of Notte Bianca without turning my head. The tables, the bar, the entrance desk, the narrow corridor that leads toward the kitchen. Every movement, every guest, every server weaving between chairs with trays balanced on their palms.
Most of the men at this table come here for the food.
I come here to observe.
The head waitress moves through the dining room again, the same way she has done every night for the past year. She walks quickly, but never looks rushed. Her eyes move constantly, taking stock of everything at once. A table that needs refilling, a guest who looks impatient, a server who needs help carrying drinks. She handles each small problem before it becomes large enough to disturb the illusion this place is built on.
Competence is rare.
Competence under pressure is rarer.
I watch her step between two tables, balancing a tray on one hand while speaking quietly to a couple seated near the window. They relax almost immediately. Whatever complaint they had dissolves under the calm tone of her voice.
Efficient.
Graceful.
Controlled.
“You’re staring again,” Leone says beside me.
“I am observing,” I reply, without taking my eyes off her.
Leone leans back in his chair and glances toward the direction of my gaze. His mouth curls in faint amusement.“ You’ve been observing her for an hour.”
“That is none of your concern. Focus on your food.”
Leone shrugs, unfazed.
He has served as my second-in-command long enough not to take my tone personally. The man is loyal, capable, and unfortunately inclined to speak his mind when silence would be wiser.
“She’s pretty,” he says casually.
I turn my head slowly.
Leone lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Just an observation.”
“Continue making observations,” I say calmly, “and I will personally arrange a swim for you in the Hudson.”
He smirks. “With the fishes?”
“With the anchors.”
He smiles faintly. “I always wondered which one you preferred.”
