Page 171 of Rosetti Family New York
“Look who’s talking,” Matteo shoots back. The coin’s moving fast between his fingers, and I know he’s about to lie or eat or both.
Dom ignores them. He’s watching me. “The fighting ring,” he says. “Any idea why it’s bleeding us dry?”
“Sit down and eat before that chair gets cold,” Nanna cuts in. She’s fierce as ever, her voice cutting through the noise. “You all need to eat.”
We sit, but the talk doesn’t stop.
“Where’s Leonardo?” Matteo asks around a mouthful of toast.
“Honeymoon number three,” Emilio says, “or was that last month?”
“You should know, Ghost,” Matteo shoots back. “You know everything.”
“He and Eleanor are in Tokyo,” Dom says, not missing a beat. “And Besa’s at the Aman Hotel, where I should be.” He’s talking about his wife, which is the only time those cold eyes of his get a little glimmer of warmth.
“Aman Hotel? You’re a fuckin’ wimp, Dom,” Leonardo would’ve said if he was here. “You can last two hours without her, can’t you?”
I eat my eggs in silence.
I should be at home, or at the ring, sorting this out in peace. But no. Nanna’s called us in, and that means you show up, even if it kills you. It’s the old ways. The family. You don’t fuck with tradition.
The fighting ring’s losing us money. That’s the talk, but I know better. It’s not lost. It’s stolen.
And I know who’s holding the knife.
Callahans. This has their stink all over it. I bet anything it’s Chase pulling a fast one. But I keep my mouth shut. A rumor like that? It’ll start a war.
“Pass the bacon, hon,” Carmela says, her eyes wide and worried. “I mean, if we’re not bankrupt. If there’s still enough meat to go around.”
I toss the plate across the table. “I’m looking into it,” I tell Domenico.
“You sure?”
Dom’s voice is sharp. Not angry, just making sure. Making damn sure.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Matteo says, a laugh hiding in his voice. “He’s on it like a rash.”
I give him a look that could kill. I’m not in the mood, and he knows it. He’s back to eating in a heartbeat.
Dom leans back, and the world leans with him. “See that you are.”
He doesn’t trust anyone, not even me. Not until I prove it. Not until I show him I can keep us from bleeding out.
And me? I’m wondering about the dead girl last night. Sloane’s friend. The Callahans are in that, too, and now I’m wondering why.
Nanna cuts through it all with a glare that could melt glass.
“You boys talk like old women,” she says. “Eat now, talk later.”
But I don’t feel like eating. I feel like getting the hell out.
Sloane. I can’t get her out of my head. What’s a girl like that doing mixed up in all this? She’s got a target on her, but she doesn’t even know it.
“Where are you going?” Emilio asks, his eyes not leaving the screen.
“Yeah,” Matteo chimes in. “Where’s the fire, Rafe?”
