Because it was true, on both counts, he only smiled in response as they pulled up in front of the restaurant where their ‘business meeting’ was being held.
“I still say it’s a mistake to meet on their turf,” Reagan grumbled as they climbed out of the car. “I still say it’s a mistake to meet with them, period.”
“Your objections have been noted. But with the Russians working with Williams, we need allies, and the DeLucas haven’t yet declared a side.” At least not publicly, and he could only hope he wasn’t too late in reaching out.
“I swear the harder we try to get out of this shit, the deeper we get into it.”
He heard his own pain, his own frustration echoed in her voice, so he reached for her, running a hand down her arm in comfort. It was all he could afford to give, not knowing who was watching as they approached the restaurant. Too much, and the DeLucas would see her as even weaker than they already did given she was a woman.
Then again, perhaps he should let them underestimate his sister. She did so enjoy proving privileged men wrong.
Side by side, they stepped into the restaurant, which was empty but for a single table in the middle occupied by Lorenzo DeLuca and his brother, Salvatore. As agreed, it was only the four of them—and the guards they would each pretend weren’t hidden out of sight, waiting for something to go wrong.
The brothers rose, welcoming smiles on their faces as they each held out a hand for Killian and then Reagan. To their credit, they didn’t sneer or so much as blink when they greeted his sister.
“Sit, sit. We’ve already ordered calamari for the table. My nonna’s recipe, you’ll love it,” Lorenzo said, his smile widening as he spoke of his grandmother. “Wine?”
Killian inclined his head in agreement. “Please. Whatever you recommend.”
Their host ordered the wine, and it appeared in record time, leading Killian to believe he’d already given instructions for what he wanted and he’d been counting on Killian to be agreeable. Which he could be, when necessary.
And if Lorenzo needed to feel like he was in charge, Killian was willing to play the game.
For now.
“How is Sophia?” Killian asked as he swirled the wine in his glass. It had a sweet, fruity smell.
Too sweet.
Beside him, Reagan reached for her wine, but he nudged his foot against hers beneath the table and at the last second she grabbed her water instead. From the corner of his eye, he watched as she discreetly sniffed before sipping the way he’d taught her.
Leaning back in his chair as if he wasn’t waiting for them to die a painful death right in front of them, Lorenzo grinned. “She’s graduating this year. Top of her class. Isabella and I couldn’t be prouder.”
“I imagine so. Has she chosen a college yet?”
“She wants to go to Berkeley, but Isabella is having a bit of a conniption over the idea of her baby being so far away. You know how mothers are.”
If he hadn’t just tried to poison them, Killian might not have thought twice about the sentiment. But in light of the cyanide currently sitting in his wine glass, the comment about mothers felt a bit too pointed.
Focusing on keeping his breathing calm and even despite the fury burning through his veins, Killian smiled. “I do, indeed. Though I would think you’d be eager to get your daughter out of Charleston sooner rather than later, since you seem intent on starting a war.”
To his credit, Lorenzo didn’t so much as blink at the accusation. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Killian. This is very much your war. If you’d come to me about the docks, we could have worked something out. I would have made sure you and yours were protected. Instead, you went to Richard Williams of all people.”
“I had my reasons.”
Lorenzo’s lip twisted up in a cruel smirk. “Yes, we’re all aware you don’t have the stomach for the game any longer. Which is why it’s so deliciously ironic that you chose Richard to take over control of your docks.”
Clearly, Lorenzo knew something Killian didn’t. But asking for information would only make him look as weak as the DeLuca’s clearly thought he was. “As I said. I had my reasons.”
“Just like you had your reasons for cancelling your engagement to the lovely Portia?”
Alarm bells rang in his mind, but he forced himself to sit still, to not react. “Yes.”
Something of what he was feeling must have shown on his face, or perhaps in his voice, because his sister pressed her foot down on his. Hard.
Careful, brother.
Sighing dramatically, Lorenzo shook his head. “You really should have come to me, you know. If I’d known all it took to buy your loyalty was a pretty face, I would have offered up my Sophia years ago. She wouldn’t have blinked twice at you knocking up the Elliott girl, and we could have finally gotten rid of those fucking Russians.”
