If I didn’t want to follow Mother’s orders anymore, I didn’t fucking have to. What was she going to do to me? Berate me? Glower at me? Ban me from the fucking family for defying her?
Let her try. If it came down to it, my brothers would have my back.
When I was a kid, she seemed all-powerful. Towering. Infallible.
But I wasn’t a kid anymore, and whatever power she still had over me… I was the only one giving it to her.
“I think Dad knows something about the Santoros,” Cos said, pulling me back. “But he’s keeping his mouth shut. Wouldn’t tell me anything.”
I frowned. “The fuck?”
“I’m going to try to get more out of him tonight. They want to celebrate. Mom’s already got the staff calling family, setting everything up. Party’s at seven. You’re expected to be there.”
“I’ll be there.”
The Santoro family. It was a power play—a way for them to claw their way back into the city. But something didn’t add up.
Should I call Mia and ask her about who her father met at the Finger Lakes?
If the Santoros were also backing Morales, this was even more convoluted.
She probably didn’t want to hear from me, but if her father was tangled up with people like this, I needed to make sure she was protected. That she wouldn’t get caught in the fallout.
I swiped my palm down my face.
Or maybe I was just looking for an excuse to hear her voice again.
* * *
The penthouse was already packed with family by the time I showed up.
After months of feeling like the axe was about to drop, we finally had something to celebrate.
Everyone was in a good mood. Everyone except me.
Unease ate at me as I stood by the unlit fireplace, watching my cousin Joe shove bruschetta into his mouth. Mia calling me a victim had made me irate. At the time, I’d felt nothing but rage. But after two hours of beating the hell out of that punching bag, regret had started to creep in.
Every time I slipped my hand into my pocket, my fingers instinctively searched for the lip gloss I’d stupidly left behind by the hotel sink.
That had been before I came out of the bathroom, when I'd been sure she’d be gone.
Only, she wasn’t.
The whole time I was with her, I’d agonized over how to keep her.
And she'd offered me a chance to figure it out.
If I hadn’t lost my shit, things could’ve gone very differently.
She had hope.
All I had was fear.
Coward.
“Jesus,” Cosimo muttered, appearing at my side. “You look like someone pissed in your drink.”
My response was a dismissive grunt.
