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“Mark not getting back to me has my ass chapped,” I say.

Brick responds while sipping his drink. “I hear ya and I’m hot about it too. My skin’s prickling like a piece of bacon on a griddle. There’s something there but sir, you and I have a mission. And we focus on our battle and believe the other regiments are taking care of their own.”

“There’s that damn word again, soldier. Mission.” I grin at him and sip my Scotch, trying to look calm while I’m about to walk into a pit of vipers. He gulps down a bottle of water, then grabs another one.

“Push it all out of our minds. We take this fucking huge piece of the Phil Cady puzzle and a lot of things topple down. We have no choice, but man up and push through,” Brick says.

“I hear you. I don’t like Poppy there. Gingersnap should be far and away, hidden from sight.”

Brick shifts his weight and adjusts the crude map he’s sketched of the old family trattoria we’re headed to.

“She’s in this, and we can use that. No one can jabber on like that one, and we’ll need some distraction while we set up, and then all she has to do is spray them with an illuminant.”

“We’re going to look like a damn glowstick?

“No one will see it except me. If I have to throw the lights, I need to know where the pieces stand. The two of you will light up green, and you’ll have to mark your sister. The rest will glow red so I can avoid shooting y’all.”

“I’d appreciate that very much. Becca up for this?”

Brick smiles at me and nods. “She is and she isn’t. I’m worried about a million tiny flecks of light that are popping up on the horizon like fireflies. I can’t keep them all from her. She’s ready to defend herself, but she ain’t ready to see Poppy go through something. You know how the five families are, tighter than a water seal on a…”

“I get it. Stop with the folksy metaphors and give me my piece.”

Brick puts his hands up and says, “There’s something I need to say. This doesn’t feel like straight up revenge for being left off the family tree. What else does Enzo want? Why does Poppy need to be there if it’s just about business and acquiring ports?

“Exploiting my weakness,” I say, hoping that satisfies him. I’m hoping Enzo’s as dumb as I give him credit for. I turn my St. Anthony medal in my hand, grateful Lou was savvy enough to grab Enzo’s. He can’t possibly know how valuable Poppy really is. It all has to be about making me suffer. The truth of it all only lives in three places, my mind, Lou’s mind, and last I checked that other place was six feet under.

He points to the cobbled together drawing from my memories of the trattoria my family used to own in town. Of course, he’s going after my mother’s and not my father’s family memories. My mother hated Enzo and she was no good at hiding it. Shit, she knew. Fucking Gia told her. Holy shit.

“You enter here. Becca confirmed with the owners that Enzo rented out the restaurant.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Becca will be on comms and cameras. Brick installed what he could an hour ago.

“Grazie mille.”

“Stop. Whether we like it or not, we’re family.” I laugh at my unlikely brother.

“Wasn’t trying to be funny but if that’s what you need.”

I clasp his shoulder and say, “Wasn’t laughing at you. I was just imagining sitting around Christmas morning opening presents in matching plaid Christmas reindeer pajamas with David and the rest of the Gelberts. That’s some next level shit.” He laughs too and Becca enters followed by the vision that is my wife. Takes my damn breath to watch her go from a flitty little princess to the goddess in front of me.

I grin, but I don’t move toward her yet. “My father, grandfather, and uncle always talked about having the right person at their side like an accessory. Or a man who will have your back should shit go sideways. The kind that sat to the right of the king and all that shit. But it’s right now I realize the only thing I want is to be at your side. I don’t need you to sit at mine.” I crook a finger at her, and we move towards each other. “We will sit together.” She looks down, and I pull her chin up.

She’s in a sleek beige satin dress that hugs every curve and dips down just low enough in the front to make my mouth water. She’s tamed the curls into a sleek long ponytail and my dick twitches when I think about it, wrapped around my fist. There’s a simple long pearl necklace that highlights her delicate collarbone. The flush in her cheeks and flash in her green eyes tell me she approves of the suit. I put it on and instantly felt the part. I’m not sure if I’m this guy or all the others, but this costume fits me like a goddamned glove.

“Come here, Gingersnap. Do a spin. Christ himself wouldn’t resist you. How am I supposed to focus on making sure we get out alive and they get dead when you look like that?”

Becca bites into an apple and says, “Spare us the dance, please.”

Dancing. That’s a good idea. I take her hand, spin her out then back to me, holding her close. I hum The Way You Look Tonight into her ear and Becca groans.

Brick coos in his wife’s ear, “Darling, you’re going to have to let them have their pre-battle moment.” He holds her close, swaying and she submits to dancing. He finds a way beyond her defenses every time.

I love Becca like a sister. Seriously, there’s no one in my world who sees through bullshit, calls it straight and is loyal as hell while keeping a level head. She woulda been my pick for consigliere in my OG mafia outfit, but Brick makes her as giggly as a schoolgirl. That southern soldier’s got her dialed in.

I keep singing to my Gingersnap, aware of the time, and it’s almost up. Brick dips Becca as I wind up the song. I lean my forehead to hers.

“Ti amo da morire e ritorno. Sei il mio cuore.”