“Don’t you mean Fitzpatrick?” Luciano asked.
“Nah, bro, I gotta go with Santini. I mean, Fitzpatrick. Who the hell are we? A bunch of nobodies.”
“Congratulations,” Jericho boomed as a thin applause filled the cabin.
“When’s the big day?” Carrera asked.
“I’d love a long engagement and a fairytale wedding,” Jazz replied. “What do you think, Russ? Next year?”
“Why wait?” Russell replied. “When you know, you know. I’m thinking in a week, maybe two, down at the courthouse.”
Jazz’s joyful expression got slapped off her face. “Wait, what? You can’t be for real.”
“And I’d love for Carrera to be my best man,” Russell said as Jazz tugged him back down.
“We have to talk about all of this,” Jazz said.
Carrera eyed his grandmother. She looked as surprised as he felt. Rather than say anything disparaging, he forked into hisdessert. “Nothing says the Fourth of July like a piece of apple pie.”
The ship dropped anchor in the river and the captain announced the fireworks would be starting soon. As everyone made their way outside, Russell beelined over.
“Pretty exciting, huh?” he asked, his focus fixed on Slash.
“Congratulations,” she replied.
Jazz joined them. “We’re going all the way to the White House, right honey?”
Russell beamed. “With the Santini name, there’s no stopping us.” He shifted his attention to Carrera. “You and Slash, that’s cool. So, Carrera, I gotta ask… will you be my best man?”
Carrera stood, extended his hand. “Sure thing.”
As he slid his gaze to his sister, he couldn’t help but wonder if Russell’s motives were pure. But he didn’t want to make something out of nothing. If his sister was happy, he was happy for her.
If Russell was using her, he’d have to answer to the Santinis
When it came to his family… blood was thicker than water.
Much, much thicker.
