Page 34 of The Bonventi Secret
The door swings open, and I'm greeted by the familiar scent of cigar smoke. My brothers, Marco and Gio, are already there, looking like they're ready for a showdown.
"Well, well, well," Gio says before taking a draw. "Look what the cat dragged in. Or should I say, what Livia let out of her claws?"
I roll my eyes but can't help the smile tugging at my lips. "Fuck off, Gio."
Good old Gio, the middle brother—my enforcer. His presence is a reminder of everything that can go wrong when emotions run high. His heart beats fiercely for our family, but sometimes that fire burns too hot. He leaps into action without considering the consequences, and more than once, he’s left me picking up the pieces of a hasty decision. He could be my greatest ally or my fiercest threat, depending on how the wind blows.
Marco chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "Oh ho, he's smiling! Quick, Gio, mark it on the calendar. Our stone-faced brother has discovered facial expressions!"
"Ha ha, very funny," I say, settling into my chair. "You two think you're real comedians, don't you?"
And then there’s Marco, the youngest. Always the charmer, the one who could sweet-talk his way into a building and out of any mess. I admire his ease, his ability to maneuver through the political landscape. But that charm is both an asset and a liability. Can he ever truly balance his loyalty to family with his hunger for power?
Gio takes another drag of his cigar, eyeing me suspiciously. "Seriously, though. What's got you in such a good mood? Don't tell me our big brother is going soft over this arranged marriage bullshit."
I shrug. "Just had an interesting dinner conversation, that's all."
Marco leans forward, smiling mischievously. "Oh? Do tell, brother. What fascinating topics did you and the lovely Livia discuss? The weather? The stock market? Or perhaps," he says, wiggling his eyebrows, "something more intimate?"
I feel warmth creeping up my neck. "We talked about her research, if you must know. Victorian literature."
Gio snorts. "Victorian literature? Christ, Enzo, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet."
"Hey, what can I say, I like a girl with a bit more intelligence than the ones you bring home from the Capstone's club," I retort.
My brothers exchange a look, clearly caught off guard by my unusually good mood.
"Alright, who the fuck are you and what have you done with our brother?" Marco asks, only half-joking.
I lean back in my chair, allowing myself a moment of relaxation. "Can't a guy be in a good mood without the Spanish Inquisition?"
"Not when that guy is you," Gio points out. "Come on, spill. What's really going on with this girl?"
I hesitate for a moment but finally give in. "She's not what I expected. She's smart, fiery. And she doesn't take any of my shit, which surprisingly, I like."
They laugh, and Marco whistles low. "Sounds like someone's met his match."
"Ha, we'll see about that," I protest, but even I can hear the lack of conviction in my voice.
Gio leans forward, his expression suddenly serious. "Just be careful, Zo. Remember why you wanted to do this in the first place."
I nod, feeling my duties creep back into the forefront of my mind. "I know, I know. It's for the family. Speaking of which," I clear my throat, getting down to business. "What's the situation with the Rossi family?"
"Per your orders, Carmine's been dealt with," Gio says, his voice cold now. "The fallout is what worries me."
"Fallout?" I say, "there shouldn't be one, right Marco?"
"Correct," Marco says, his authoritative tone clear. "The Mayor and I had lunch with the police chief. It'll be ruled as a tragic accident, and that's what the Rossi family will be told."
Gio snorts. "Tragic, my ass. That rat had it coming, but still - you think the Rossis are going to just accept it?"
I rub the ring on my pinkie with my thumb. "Well, we've done all we can to make them think it wasn't us. We'll just have to wait. Tell the Capos to make sure their men are keeping an eye on things. We'll do damage control only if we need to."
I can tell Gio's not 100 percent happy with my answer, but he accepts it. As we continue with a few more items of business, I can't shake the image of Livia from my mind. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her research, the defiant tilt of her chin when she showed up to dinner in her wrinkled clothes.
As we finish up, Marco stands, stretching. "Well, if that's all, I've got a date with a bottle of very old scotch from the senator I'd like to open before bed."
Gio puts out his cigar and follows suit but pauses at the door. "Hey," he says, and I look up, expecting another jab, but his expression is softer than usual. "It's good to see you like this. Just don't lose sight of what's important, yeah?"
