"You can call me Dad, you little prick."
I bite down on the urge to address him as Father. This, I remind myself, is not the time to fuck with him. Not with Lyndall, Lola, and Squish on the line.
I'm aware the baby is nothing in the grand scheme of things if you're looking from the outside in.
Lola isn't even showing, and I think Squish is fucking perfect and adorable, but unless she tells someone, they won't know she's pregnant.
My baby means the world to me.
Lola means the world to me.
My sister, too.
Even if she isn't actually my sister by blood.
"Dad?" I take a breath as we turn onto my street.
My place is lit up downstairs, and the guards aren't even pretending to blend in. Inside must be worse.
Actually, there are more than I had. And I send a sharp look to my father.
Who shrugs. "What? Backup, kid. Always be ready for anything."
"I don't need one of your 'this is how the business is run' lectures, Dad. How the fuck are you buddy-buddy with Costa?"
The car pulls up, and I motion to Con, who has clearly just arrived a little before us.
He leads people inside.
Lucky it's the time of day when people are probably heading home from work or out for drinks.
I don't notice any curtains twitching. But this is a well-heeled street, so people work long hours and play harder. At the most, a couple of nannies caught the commotion, and it's easily written off as a get-together.
It doesn't bother me. I just prefer not to be noticed. At least, not unless I want attention.
I grab Dad's arm. "Costa?"
"I know him, we have connections."
I'm wasting time, and I let him go.
We go inside, and he helps himself to some booze in my study.
He dials a number on his phone, hits speaker, and sits.
Picking up the glass, he sniffs the whiskey. "Edoardo. It's Mario."
"Mario, how's it hanging?" the man says jovially, his voice lightly accented.
Dad says, "A little lower these days."
"To have youth back with the wisdom of age... You know there's a good poker game coming up at the club?—"
I slam my hand down on the desk and snatch the glass from my father before he can have any.
I lean in. "I'm so fucking glad the two of you are old friends and love discussing your old man ball sacs, but catch the fuck up another time. Can we get back to the point of the call?"
My father offers me a slight smirk. "Edoardo, my son, Enzo."
