Page 42 of The Lies We Tell

Emilia had taken what she initially described as a bare prison courtyard, where Varda’s men would gather to smoke and drink while waiting for orders, and turned it into a pretty little oasis with flower beds and a bubbling fountain.

Dom stood in the break of the iron railing at the top of a short set of stairs, one hand in his pocket, the other resting protectively on Emilia’s hip. His stance was challenging, the set of his jaw defiant.

Matteo bit back a sigh. Why did these interactions with his brothers never seem to get easier? Each one was more exhausting than the last.

He was the first one out of the car but the last one up the steps, giving Dom a small nod before following the others inside. It was simply and elegantly decorated in shades of blue and white, and Matteo had to admit, a huge improvement over the gaudy gold everything before they all but gutted the interior.

Dom led them down a short hallway and around a corner to a large family room. Matteo recognized some of the art on the walls from the family collection and had to stop himself from pausing to study each piece. Like their father, Dom preferred Italian painters. Or maybe it was Emilia’s preference here.

Maids setting up coffee service on a side table quickly bobbed into curtsies when Dom entered, stumbling when they saw Matteo and doing another quick curtsy before disappearing through a seamless back door hidden by the wallpaper.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Emilia,” Carina said, kissing Emilia on each cheek. “The house looks amazing.”

Emilia smiled, pride evident on her face. “Thank you. And thanks for recommending that tile guy. He did such great work on the bathrooms upstairs.”

“My pleasure. We have him redoing the whole house after the wedding.”

“When is that officially?” Dom wondered, pressing a kiss to Emilia’s temple and handing her a cup of coffee.

“Well, if you would all finally come out to Marsala for dinner, I would tell you.”

“Christ,” Luca muttered. “What is it with you and this dinner invitation? You’ve been on us for months.”

“Yes. I have. Catch a clue that it’s important to me, why don’t you?”

“We’ll put something on the calendar,” Sienna insisted before Luca could snipe back. “Between the three of us, we’ll make sure it happens.”

Matteo tried to picture the seven of them seated around the dinner table at the Marsala house Carina had purchased from him a few months ago, making small talk and playacting at being a real family. It’s not like they had much to discuss beyond business and mundane small talk.

“How are the kids adjusting to their new school?” Carina asked of the expensive private school Emilia’s younger brother and sister were now attending.

Matteo watched the women naturally gravitate toward one another. They hadn’t known each other long—he’d only just found out Sienna was alive a month ago—but they already seemed easy with each other. He tried to imagine Tessa among them, and the fact he even let his mind wander to such a ridiculous notion was an annoyance.

It was enough that he’d been battling images of the worst happening to her in that bathroom. Of Carina finding a different body on the floor. It was an image he desperately wanted to scrub out of his mind forever.

He’d tried distracting himself with work, but the only thing that seemed to work was Tessa. And he didn’t like that he was getting so close, so distracted. So attached.

“Good, I think,” Emilia replied. “Antonio is—”

“Maybe we can save the family small talk for Carina’s dinner party,” Matteo said, voice clipped, earning him an eye roll from Carina and a glare from Dom. “We have business matters to discuss.”

He waited for them to pair up on the couches and chairs before taking his own seat.

“It would appear Antonetti has finally figured out what we’re up to,” Matteo began.

“The little bird sleeping in your bed must be whispering in his ear.”

Clenching his jaw, Matteo twisted his watch around his wrist. He supposed he deserved barbs like that. He’d said much the same about both Emilia and Sienna in the last several months.

Still, after Tessa had killed a man to save Sienna’s life, he’d hoped his brother would soften toward her at least the tiniest degree. Those hopes had been quickly dashed.

But Tessa knew nothing about their plans for her father. They didn’t spend their time alone together on conversation, and even if they did, it would hardly be about the next step in their strategy, as his brothers so often seemed to do with their women.

“Or Antonetti figured it out when his man didn’t come back with Sienna’s body. And we haven’t exactly been quiet about any of this. He was bound to put it all together eventually,” Matteo reminded them. “Besides, it doesn’t matter if he knows or not, anyway. He’s given us a gift.”

“What gift is that?” Carina wondered.

“I’ve been monitoring his outbound calls,” Sienna said, pulling a laptop out of the bag at her feet and opening the lid.

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