“Yep,” Theo confirms, taking a sip of his wine. “You’ve got your grandfather’s nose. He could always tell everything about the grapes, just by smelling the wine.”
“Skipped a generation, I guess,” I chuckle, then take a sip and let the flavor sit on my tongue before swallowing. “My dad can’t even tell which vineyard the grapes come from. I could probably take you directly to the vine.”
“Nice party trick,” Theo says, puffing some smoke into the air. “Not very useful when you’re sitting at the head of the table. What’s the word? Is your father going to retire this year like he said?”
“Who knows,” I sigh, shaking my head. “Who fucking knows…”
My old man’s intentions are always something of a mystery, but I doubt retirement will be in his plans when this week is over. I already know how this plays out. My brother hired a hitman. A good one. Same one I would use if I needed someone eliminated and couldn’t use one of our guys. But this will divide the family. Civil war. Vultures will pick at our bones while we’re fighting each other, because we won’t have any way to hold all of ourterritories with bullets flying in every direction. Las Vegas will burn to the ground as collateral damage and the Morandi family will lose everything.
“Let’s finish our wine and cigars, then we’ll have a look at the books,” Theo says. “Got any plans for the evening?”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I need a table tonight. I’ve got a date.”
“A date? Want me to close the restaurant so you can have it to yourself?” he offers.
“Nah, that’s not necessary.” I shake my head and exhale the smoke from my cigar. “It might scare her.”
“Ifthatis enough to scare her…” Theo raises a brow, the expression on his face saying the rest.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “But it’s just dinner. Nothing more than that.”
That’s the truth. I may have let a pretty girl distract me from my grief, but I can’t let it go further than that. I’ve got way too much at stake. There’s only one way to save the Morandi family. It’s not an easy decision, but I have to make my peace with it.
It’s either civil war…
Or a Morandi funeral.
CHAPTER 3
Lea
I’m pacing back and forth in my bungalow in a panic. My heart’s beating so hard it’s making me dizzy. The nausea is back, and it’s got my stomach coiled into a knot so tight I’m struggling not to collapse.
“Sarah… Call me! I need you!” I mutter, staring at the last message I sent her, which hasn’t been read yet. “Please…”
I desperately wish I had paid closer attention when Sarah was rambling about all the guys on her true crime wall. Or more specifically, the ones on herMafiatrue crime wall. She’s obsessed with true crime, especially modern-day mobsters. I like listening to the stories, but I don’t want to be a part of one. Why did I throw common sense out the window when I was staring into those icy blue eyes? The warning signs were there. Literally tattooed on his impressive, gorgeous…
“No! No, stop.” I shake my head. “I’m not having dinner with someone who is in the Mafia. That’s absurd.”
I tremble and send another message to Sarah, hoping the frequency will convey everything the frantic urgency doesn’t. This isn’t the kind of adventure I was looking for on Isola Selvaggia. I just wanted to sit by the ocean and catch up on my reading. See a few sights. Maybe, just maybe—and it’s a big maybe—flirt with a cabana boy. I haven’t evenseena cabana boy and I don’t want to flirt with anyone anymore.
“Maybe I should go home.” I turn and look at my bags. “The boat runs again tonight. By this time tomorrow, this could all be a weird dream. But I spent so much money to come here, and I promised?—”
My phone lights up. Sarah’s calling me. I decline it and immediately call her back on video. I need to see her face, and if she sees mine, she’ll understand how serious this is. I’m practically in tears.
“Sarah!” I say as soon as she answers. “Listen, are you at home?”
“Uh, yeah.” Sarah turns the phone and shows me the entrance of her mom’s house. “Give me a second. What do you need?”
“I need you to go to your room,” I say with as much urgency as I can muster. “And then I need to see your Mafia true crime wall.”
“O-okay,” she says, blinking in surprise as she turns the phone so I can see her face. “What’s going on, Lea? Are you crying?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I sputter. “Just hurry! Please!”
“Okay, okay, hold your horses,” she grumbles.
My hand trembles so hard I can barely hold onto the phone as the video bounces while Sarah rushes up the stairs. I close my eyes and mutter a silent prayer that I’m mixed up. That Massimo just looks similar to some Mafia guy and isn’t actuallya dangerous criminal. If he is, I have no idea what I’ll do. Will he hunt me down if I stand him up? He knows I’m staying at this resort. Knows I’m all alone. Oh, god.
