“That would make us family,” Kieran says, balancing the pros and cons.
“I know.” Aware of the implications and his thinking that would sway my loyalty toward their side.
It’s not who said wife is that makes the difference, but because it’s Viviana. Before her, I didn’t even entertain the thought of getting married. But now it’s more than that. It’s my duty. My responsibility.
“I had someone else in mind for her,” Cato says.
Scolding my features into keeping a neutral expression takes great skill. Don’t I fucking know it? But the fucker doesn’t deserve her. I will kill Dario if he ever touches her.
“She’s still in college.”
I brush his concern off with a swipe of my hand. “She can finish her studies. We’ll get married afterward.”
Cato’s brows furrow, his mind trying to piece together the reason for the sudden interest. “Moving fast, I see.”
“It’s months away. I am in no hurry.”
I leave, feeling like I’ve won something but will lose her.
After hopping into the car, I drive aimlessly through Boston, parking down the street from her parents’ house. I wonder if she is with her Nonna or playing with her niece.
Missing her hollows my chest, demanding everything in me not to climb out of the car and present myself as her fiancé. Her future husband.
I don’t know how long I watch out the window to catch a glimpse of her when my phone vibrates. I pick it up from the center console to see the reminder for poker night.
I meet monthly with Vian and Rafe, the other two most powerful associates of the Syndicate. We have an alliance within an alliance, so to speak. Plus, we’re the only ones who are not married.
Tonight, it’s my turn to host the poker night. Vian is the Chicago Mafia boss, and Rafe is the Miami cartel boss.
Fuck, I almost forgot about that. And I never forget anything. I guess until the deal passes through, I can’t focus on anything else.
I speed toward the private airport and hop in the jet to make it on time, instructing my house manager to prepare for tonight’s game.
Once inside my penthouse, I walk into the poker room, nodding to myself. Cigars lay on the side of the table next to a bottle of the finest scotch and some snacks. The cards are decked just in time for my security downstairs to announce the first one’s presence.
Vian and I clap each other’s backs in greeting.
“Ready to get your ass kicked?”
“Keep dreaming, asshole,” he snickers. “The diva is late, like always.”
“I fucking heard you. It’s called work,” Rafe enters, scowling at Vian.
The three of us move like a well-oiled machine. Rafe pours the drinks, Vian offers the cigars, and I shuffle the cards.
When we don’t play for money, we play for favors. These gatherings used to be a pleasurable pastime, but now thoughts of Viviana invade my brain. I would much rather spend my time with her instead.
As I get the cards ready for Texas Hold ’Em, I say, “I’m getting married.”
They’ll find out eventually, and I want them to hear it from me.
Vian spills his drink.
Rafe shows his cards.
Shock pervades the air, thick with disbelief. The reaction doesn’t surprise me. A few months ago, I hadn’t expected that either.
Rafe swore marriage off long before he took over.
