"What arrangements?"
"Security."
I furrow my brow in confusion. "There's plenty of security at the club."
"Security for you."
That could mean he plans to assign me a bodyguard or a jailer. I don't think I want to know which. He stares at me for a moment, looking for a reaction, but I try to keep my expression neutral.
"Okay."
Damiano returns his attention to his iPad and I focus on the almond pastry, which is delicious. The silence is awkward but I don't know how to fill it without asking questions I probably won't like the answers to.
The crease at the bridge of Damiano's nose as he concentrates on the spreadsheet in front of him makes him look younger, like a kid poring over his homework.
As I finish my pastry and try to decide if it's okay to excuse myself or if I have to wait to be dismissed, footsteps echo inthe hallway. A subtle tension creeps into Damiano's posture and then dissipates as a tall, blond man comes into the room.
In his late twenties, he's wearing a dress shirt and pants but no tie. His top button is open, revealing a gold cross which marks him as either a blind optimist or a hypocrite, considering he's giving off strong mafia vibes. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He has nice forearms, but Damiano's are better. I shouldn't be comparing them.
"Violetta." There's a touch of something I can't identify in Damiano's voice. Did he not like me staring at the newcomer? "This is Elio, myconsigliere. Elio, this is Violetta Caruso."
Elio casts an appraising look over me.
"My future wife," Damiano adds.
"Ah, yes." Elio moves around the table and sits opposite me. Less than a minute later, Lina appears with a cappuccino for him. Things run so smoothly around here I'm starting to wonder if the staff are psychic. "Thank you, Lina."
She pinches his cheek and he grins at her, a surprisingly familiar interaction. They must have known each other for a long time.
"You have news?" Damiano asks.
Elio glances at me. Assuming whatever they have to talk about is sensitive, I start to rise from my chair. Damiano gestures with a single finger for me to sit back down. I grit my teeth and obey the silent command.
Hisconsiglierefrowns, uncertain for a moment, and then turns to Damiano. "I spoke with Lenkov."
"Daniil?"
"No, Timofey. He secured the routes from Theo Pappas." "We can start moving merchandise through Athens within the week."
"That was faster than expected."
"Timofey can be very persuasive."
Damiano nods. "And the Makris family?"
"Still causing problems. They're too small to challenge us alone. Their boldness suggests they have backing. Lenkov is looking into it."
I'm amazed they're discussing all this in front of me. Surely they're not usually so open. It takes a minute for me to realize what's happening.
This is Damiano tightening the noose.
The more I learn about his organization, the more of a threat I pose. His argument for keeping me close and under his control only grows stronger.
My throat constricts as I realize I've stepped into a dangerous world. There's no safe exit from it.
"We need to get to the office," Damiano says, getting to his feet and putting on his jacket.
Elio rises with him. "I'll wait for you in the car." He smiles tightly at me. "Violetta."
