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I try to teach him how to properly spin a coin until Stefania appears in the doorway, looking haggard. “Oh my god, there he is,” she says, hurrying in. “Brando, you can’t just disappear like that. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“He’s okay, I got him.” I grin at Brando, the little scamp. Pure, absolute, unaltered trouble. It occurs to me that I’ll have my own little trouble soon, and the thought is as scary as I thought it might be. No, if my kid’s even half as fun as Brando, I’m looking forward to being a Dad.
“You’re not supposed to bother anyone when they’re working,” Stef says, kneeling down next to him. “You have to go back to Christine.”
“But the coin.” Brando’s eyes go wide.
I laugh and wave him off. “Go ahead and keep it. Practice flipping and show me how good you are at it later, okay?”
Brando nods, looking excited, and allows Stefania to escort him out. A few minutes later, my sister reappears in my office door. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries. I don’t mind a little morning visit from that little dude.”
“You don’t, do you?” She scrutinizes me a little more intensely than usual. Stef’s one of the smartest people in our family, and even though she’s a lot younger than the rest of us, I think she should be running the whole damn show. Though I’d never tell Renzo that. Unfortunately, the Famiglias are all a little outdated when it comes to their views on women. Which means Stefania is destined for marriage.
She steps inside and closes the door behind her. I lean back and cross my arms over my chest. “Brando couldn’t hang out, but you can?”
She makes a face. “Brando escaped me and the nanny. That kid’s got some serious stealth skills.”
“He’ll be an asset to the family one day.”
“Sorry, I don’t really want to think about him cutting throats at three years old, thanks.”
“I don’t cut throats.”
“Right. You shoot people instead.”
I grunt and shrug since she’s not wrong. “What’s up, Stef?”
She looks a little hesitant, which is not like my sister. The girl grew up with four asshole older brothers—she doesn’t take shit from anyone, and she sure as hell is confident enough to handle anything.
Except right now she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.
“I heard Renzo wants you to marry one of the Milano girls. Orsino’s stepdaughter?”
“Word travels fast around these parts.”
She looks at her nails, trying too hard to see casual. “Are you gonna do it?”
“I told him no.”
“Renzo doesn’t like that word.” She looks up. “The Don’s word is law, right?”
“I told him no,” I repeat, not in the mood to discuss this with her.
“Why, exactly?” When I don’t reply, she presses. “You’re single. No offense, but you don’t seem to have any serious prospects.”
“I’m a fucking catch,” I grumble at her.
“But no serious girlfriends. Why wouldn’t you take him up on this? It’d be a good match and I saw a picture of the girl. She’s kind of hot.”
“I don’t care. I was willing to marry for the family once. Gian took that bullet for me instead.”
Stefania snorts. “Gian stole her, you mean.”
“Same thing. I’m not doing it a second time though.”
She nods and paces to the window. It overlooks the garden. I follow her gaze to a butterfly bush, one of Maddie’s most recent additions. “Dante told me about the Irish girl.”
