“Remo,” Lorenzo warned. He had one firm rule, he never wanted unnecessary issues with other mafia families unless he gave the go ahead. Only, I had a hard time obeying and even though he knew that his anger was just as short as my fuse.
“I had Rahul get me info on Veer’s relationship with a woman.” I knew the boy hadn’t ratted me out intentionally. When I put him our payroll, Lorenzo demanded he was kept in the loop of everything Rahul worked on and why the little shit probably told him.
“What woman?”
“It’s not important, Renz.” I stood, lighting a cigarette.
“It is when he’s Indian mafia,” he said quietly, pausing my feet, that no-argument tone was deadly when tested.
Dragging hard on the cancer stick until my lungs burned for air, I looked at my brother. “The doctor.” His brow rose slowly, his eyes questioning me without words. “The hospital in Italy after the whole D’Angelo shit?”
I knew the moment recognition dawned. His lips twitched and my ‘fuck you’ glared through my scowl.
“So,” he said, a wealth of amusement filling that single word as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “You went after her?”
“Your point?”
My sarcasm earned a chuckle before he asked, “And Veer?”
I eyed my brother through the smoke spilling out my lips then sighed. Lying to him would be a clear waste of time. He had this uncanny way of finding out things at the drop of a hat. “Trust me when I say this, but I had no idea he was her uncle when my cock offloaded in her mouth.”
“Her uncle?” He rubbed a thumb over his bottom lip. “Wait. You went back for more after fucking her mouth?” I heard the surprise in his voice. I rarely, if not never fucked a woman more than once. My boredom was unmatched apparently.
I shrugged. “Can’t blame the fucker, can I?” I rubbed my crotch, put the cigarette out in an ashtray, then rested my ass on the edge of the table.
“She’s the reason you came back last week?”
“Yes. Don’t ask me to walk away, bro.”
“I won’t but considering the lengths you’re going to and who we’re dealing with, I need more.” Lorenzo liked to stay one step ahead of his enemies and if that meant ball busting his men, he didn’t hesitate, especially with me, given my short temper.
I cupped the back of my neck, massaging the tendons there and recalled the strange conversation between Ishika and her uncle. At first, it sounded like one fucking giant ball of shit until he ended it with an offer she couldn’t refuse even if she wanted to. “Veer wants her to–no, he forced her to accept an arranged marriage she doesn’t want.”
Lorenzo stood, his frown deep. “And you let her?”
I gave him a sheepish smile. “She didn’t know I was listening.”
“Fuck.” He shook his head. “You camera-tapped her home, didn’t you?” I shrugged, hating this conversation a lot more now that he was in the know. “If you’re interested, why let her?”
The complication I’d picked up on Ishika and her uncle’s conversation made me drag my hands down my face with curse. “Fuck, Renz, all I know is that there’s a brother in play.”
He looked just as confused as I’d felt when I first stumbled in on Ishika threatening her uncle. “So her brother is forcing her?”
I shook my head. “The man she must marry has her brother. A brother she doesn’t remember having and for her to get him back, she must agree to some fucked up traditional agreement between their two families.”
“And she believed them?” he voiced the skepticism I’d felt when I heard Veer trying to convince her it was the truth.
Straightening, I walked over to the bar and poured us a drink. “They had proof. Photos, birth certificate and some other shit I couldn’t see.” I handed him a whiskey and downed mine in a quick swallow.
“Those could be easily fabricated.” He sipped his drink, his expression thoughtful.
“If she doesn’t believe them, she has the option to meet the boy, draw his blood herself and have the DNA tested. If that’s on offer, I doubt it’s a lie.”
“Who’s the groom?”
“No idea. Veer didn’t mention any names.”
Lorenzo finished his drink and set his glass on the table before lifting those intelligent eyes to me. “What are you planning?” His words were soft, caring yet no less cautious that I should tread lightly.
