Page 96 of Legacy
“Okay, Tiny. About what?”
“About what?” Her voice rises an octave as she stares at me like I’ve grown three heads. “Are you serious? Santo won’t tell me what’s going on, and every time you two are in a room together it’s like a fucking freezer. What happened after the Armenian attack?”
She should really talk to Santo about this.
I don’t say it out loud. Not yet. I sit beside her instead, trying to prepare for the storm.
She shifts closer, concern etched all over her face. The soft scent of cashmere and amber clings to her like always. She’s such a contrast to the rest of us. Light where we are shadow.
“The last thing he told me was that he was afraid you were hiding something,” she says softly, placing a hand on my arm. Her brows pull together. “Are you?”
I swallow hard.
The weight of her question digs into the cracks already spidering through my conscience.
Yes.
I’m hiding everything.
Everything that could break this family apart.
But I look at the sweet girl and lie.
“No.” I shake my head and hate myself when I watch the relief in her face.
She exhales. “So Santo just needs that reassurance, you can give that to him.”
She smiles and all I can do is nod.
She squeezes my arm then stands up abruptly. “But… I actually do have to use the restroom, do you mind?”
“Of course Tiny, my home is yours.”
The heels of her boots click as she heads down the hall to my wife’s bathroom.
I stand, stretching the tension from my body and slip into my office.
Behind me, I hear the bathroom door shut. Good. That gives me a few minutes to breathe. I sink into my seat.
I should call Luca. See if Vasilisa made it to me without a whole search party on her tail. I reach for my phone, but it’s not here.
I frown.
I left it on the entry table in the foyer.
I make a move to get up but the sound of heels hitting marble stops me
Faster. Sharper.
I look up just as Adriana storms in—my phone gripped in her bandaged hand, eyes blazing. She’s fury incarnate; like she dragged a thunderstorm into this tomb of marble and silence.
“Who the fuck is Piccola?”
She tosses the phone onto the desk, hard enough to make it slide across the surface.
I blink.
“What?”
