Page 72 of Wretched Choices

“I didn’t ask you to follow me.”

From beside me, Marco throws a dart, and it hits just below center.

“I win.” Dante moves from the wall and picks up the darts.

The three of them followed me here after I left the meeting with my underbosses. The meeting was over anyway. I just didn’t want to let them keep talking about the same thing.

Fucking Sabatini and how to catch him.

I appreciate their attempts to come up with a solution, but none of them worked for me. Yes, we need some strategies, but my mind was elsewhere.

Luca, my underboss, was the only one who didn’t say anything. Because he knows it isn’t his place. But if I go down, they are all going down with me, and that is the problem. At least he has most of his business legalized.

Matteo has newly taken over and his power is growing, but he needs to establish himself more. He and all his men will do as I say and want, no discussion needed.

His father is more skeptical. Even if he says he stands with me, I can’t forget he worked under my father. His eldest, Enzo, is on my side. We have a similar vision of where the future of our family and its organization should be going.

What they think doesn’t matter. They all work for me. No matter how much power they got, their companies are mine. I own fifty-one percent of each of their businesses.

“We need to find him. Look under the smallest rock. I don’t care. I need this to end.” I need things to go back to the way they were before. Before my sense of responsibility was taken over by recklessness.

“I talked with Di Angelo,” Gabriel says. He shifts in his seat. “He is checking his men. They captured a few traitors, who are under interrogation at the moment. As soon as he has some information, he will call.”

“Good.” I take my eyes off the screen and look at him. “How are wedding preparations going?” In two months, he is supposed to get married to Di Angelo’s sister.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling. “My mother and mother-in-law are deep in preparations. I don’t have any idea what they are planning. I told them to leave me out of it.”

“Good. Let’s hope this alliance gives us peace of mind, as did the one with ‘Ndrangheta.”

The days after we came back from Italy were followed by Ruggeri’s call that he and themandamentodecided to cut all ties with Sabatini, leaving him with no support. This means all the support he has is a bunch of rats that can’t be trusted. Rats either from Cosa Nostra or Camorra. And when the money he has is all gone, he will not have them either.

My relationship with Isabella has changed. She is determined to peel my layers one by one to find the monster underneath. She wants to see what I’m hiding. She doesn’t even know she saw into my soul like no one ever has. Not even Gabriel knows the darkest parts of my soul.

She crashed down the high walls I built since I found the truth that will haunt me until the day I die.

Whatever she wants, I bring it to her. She wanted a house, always complaining the hotel wasn’t home. Even if I’m the owner.

So, I bought a house.

No, I boughthera house. Because after our agreement is over, I will go back to my previous life. The thought of that makes my chest contract, robbing me of my breath.

I ignore it. Just like I have been ignoring all the feelings I’ve had since I met her.

My attention goes back to the screen when a girl hugs Isabella and slides into the booth with them. She looks familiar. I try toremember where from when Marco leans in and almost glues his face to the screen, fixing his glasses.

“My, my. Am I seeing this right? You see her too, Sal? I’m not imagining her, right?”

“Who are you talking about?” I narrow my eyes.

“The pixie there with your wife.”

“Do you know her?”

“You know her.” He gives me a look like I’m missing something, one he always gives me when he explains his nerd things to me. “She planned your wedding.” He whistles and shakes his head. “Very bossy spitfire for her size.” A wide grin appears on his face and disappears when a group of guys approach their table, and they laugh with the girls.

My grim expression matches Marco’s as we watch the men flirting with the women. I don’t care that the other women are flirting because Isabella is not. She just smiles politely. The smile she learned and mastered, one usually reserved for socializing when she is not in the mood.

The group of newcomers slide into the booth with the girls, one of them too close to my wife. I stand and decide it’s time for me to show myself.

---