Page 91 of Runaway in the Mafia
A few beats was all I had. It was a luxury I couldn’t afford, I realised, when the door swung open and footsteps strolled in. A light hum of frustration boiled underneath my skin. A soft sigh escaped me as I pinched my nose.
He didn’t speak. I didn’t either. The weight of the old wooden planks shifting and the crystal on my drink trolley crackling told me it was Antonio. Sergio didn’t have the patience to keep his mouth shut for that long.
The chair across from my desk scraped, and a soft thud of the glass on the leather padding resonated underneath my hand resting on my desk.
My eyes squinted open. He looked unbothered. I bet he never made a rash decision in his life. That alone inched up my turbulence. “What?” My tone showed it.
“I set up a meeting with Kola.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s time we settled this rift, Vitale.”
“And how do you propose we settle something that’s been going on for three generations?”
“We can’t. But at least we’re going to stop a full-blown war.”
I narrowed my eyes. Antonio never went into a discussion without knowing the outcome. “What have you got up your sleeve?”
“Andrea will back us,” he continued.
“Why?” I frowned. “I insulted the man.”
“You did.” He nodded. “But the man loves his daughters, and he made the right choice by not giving one of them to a man who can’t even remember her name.”
“Hemade the choice?”
“Yes, he did, and that’s what the story will be.”
I shrugged.Whatever.“Always knew his ego needed a boost.”
“We’re also handing over one of our clubs to him in Palermo.”
I gritted my teeth. “I thought he was thinking of his daughters?”
“He needed an incentive.”
“Fuck.” I pushed my tumbler to the middle and sat up straight. “What’s this going to cost me?”
“Batita.”
“Fuck’s sake, Antonio. That’s one of our most profitable clubs.”
“Yeah?” His look was unsympathetic. “Should have thought of that before you acted first with your dick.”
I growled.
“Not to say I blame you, but for fuck’s sake, can you next time come to me first before you blow your father’s brains out?”
So he knew.Of course he did.
My hand wrapped around the tumbler. Fingers licked the condensation and brought it back to the top. His gaze was amber. Distorted through the crystal. “How did you know?”
He sighed. “Does it matter? I’m yourconsigliere. I’d expect a little credit.”
“You were his as well,” I muttered.
“Yes. And I had a lot of respect for Carlo. But that was before I knew all the shit he’d done while I was in Boston. If I had, I would have helped you out.” His glance was full of annoyance at my scepticism. “I don’t have sisters. Nor a mother I’d waste my time on. But if I did… of course I’d do the same as you, but just maybe go about it in a less hot-headed way.”
