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I smiled. Just in case, I’d done the same—though I’d briefed them yesterday, and they should arrive any minute.
Preparation was everything. Having contingency plans was the only way to survive our way of life. And just in case, I’d gone a step further.
My phone rang, and I looked down at the caller.
Bingo.
I’d asked Sophie to help me keep Gabe away from this meeting in case it went south, and even though she wasn’t thrilled about deceiving her husband, she agreed to it.
I took the call. “Hey, Mom.”
I didn’t even have to fake my surprise. I did not expect Sophie to involve my mother in our little scheme. “What’s going on?”
“I was told to tell you Sophie is not feeling too well, and Gabe should come and take her to the hospital, ASAP. I’m not thrilled with the plan, but I understand and appreciate you looking out for your brother.”
I narrowed my brows. “What’s wrong with Sophie?” I straightened, and tightened my voice in alarm.
Gabe was by my side in a split second. “What’s wrong?”
I stared at him. “It’s Mom; she says Sophie is experiencing some cramping but refuses to go to the hospital without you.”
I could see the storm brewing in Gabe’s eyes. Fear, worry, and duty mixed together.
I signed to one of the security guards to come closer. “You, don’t let him drive.”
Then I turned to Gabe and clamped my hand on his shoulder. “Go, your wife and baby need you.”
Gabe hesitated for a moment, then took off—the guard on his heels.
And I watched him leave. “He’s on his way, Mom. Thanks for playing along.”
I could hear her exhale. “You better take good care of yourself because if something happens to you, I’ll kill you with my own hands,” she said.
I chuckled. “I’ll make sure there’s not a single scratch on me.”
I could firmly hear her clenching her jaw. “I love you, Mom.”
I closed my eyes for a second.
Our relationship had become better over the last couple of days. I did just what Fee told me to do, even if I was too damn stupid to hear what she was telling me at the time. But she’d been right, regarding the situation from my mother’s perspective—of a young American student caught up in a whirlwind romance with a young Mafia Don and exploring their mutual sexual desires, then keeping quiet about the mess that came out of it.
I couldn’t blame her.
So I chose to forgive. Chose to focus on how much she loved me. How she’d always been there for me—no matter what.
“I love you, Alessandro,” Mom said before she ended the call.
I sighed.
And when I looked up, I caught Franco staring at me. “You tricked him into leaving.” He came closer, settled on the opposite side of the bar. “You’re a good brother.”
I narrowed my brows but remained silent.
Then Franco sighed. “I wish you were my brother.” For a split second our gazes locked, then we both started laughing.
Because the irony was, Franco was my brother.
As insane as it was, I thought I was losing my family. Instead—if I survived this meeting—my family was growing rapidly.
