“I heard you got your ass handed to you by some billionaire in Vegas.” I smirk at him. Because knowing my cousin, the fact the news of his Vegas trip got back to me already and that he got his ass beat by some rich guy is going to piss him off.
“Where the fuck did you hear that?” he grunts.
“Roman,” I tell him.
“Roman has a big fucking mouth. I heard you’re shacking up with little Zara McKinley. Bit above your paygrade there, little cousin,” Aurelio says.
“Roman does have a big fucking mouth,” I grumble.
“You sure you want to get involved with a McKinley?”
“What’s wrong with Zara?” I glare at my cousin, daring him to say one negative thing about the girl.
“Nothing, other than the fact she’s in the public eye a lot. That’s not great for our family,” he says.
“I know.” I don’t care, though.
I don’t say that part, because it’s not as if I don’t care about my family. I do. I just don’t care that Zara’s life doesn’t exactly fit with mine. I’ll figure it out.We’llfigure it out. We’re young and have so much time to work out the realities of what it will be like for us to be together.
“It’s not as if the family doesn’t make the news every now and again,” I tell my cousin. “The Cinque brand is worldwide. We’re not out of the public eye either.”
“Yeah, but we’re not on their level of wealth.”
“So it’s a money thing? Does her money intimidate you?” I counter.
“No.” Aurelio laughs. “But she will never need you for anything. She’s going to be able to do everything on her own.”
He’s wrong. Money can’t buy the stuff Zara needs me for.
“I don’t need a woman to need me. What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s the twenty-first century. Women don’t need to depend on a man. Is that how you see Daniella, waiting to find a husband to support her and give her everything she needs?” I throw the question back at him, using his sister as an example.
“Fuck no. Not like that. It’s just… different. Forget I said anything.”
“Don’t worry, I will. Thanks for the drink.” I walk out of the living room and head outside. Sitting on the top step of the back veranda. Sometimes my cousins are fucking stupid for how smart they’re supposed to be.
The sun is just going down. It’s not cool yet, but also not hot out. I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip, savouring the clean smoothness of the whiskey going down my throat.
“How’d the appointment go?” My dad sits down next to me.
“I think it will be good for her,” I tell him.
“How are you?” he asks.
“I’m not the one with issues.”
“No, you’re the one carrying the burden of trying to fixsomeone else’s issues, Ares. That can take a toll on a person.”
“I’m fine. Caring about her isn’t a hardship.”
“Good.”
“Her father forbade her from talking to me,” I say.
“He what? I never liked that fucking asshole,” Dad grunts.
“What asshole?” Uncle Marcel steps out on to the veranda.
“Your best mate, Dom,” Dad explains.
