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He tips the bottle to the glass and then pauses, raising an eyebrow and challenging my words.

“Really,” I say, “I’m okay.”

Rinaldo pours a glass half full of amber liquid and offers it to me. I decline, and he takes a sip himself.

“You all settled into your new place?” he asks.

“For the most part. I don’t have a lot of stuff, and the place was already furnished, so there wasn’t a lot to do.”

“Are you ready to be a full-time member of this organization again?”

“I am, sir.”

He stares at me for a long time before speaking again.

“I only let you leave because I knew it wouldn’t last.”

My chest tightens. I look away for a moment, swallow hard, and take a deep breath.

“She’s a good girl,” Rinaldo says. “She wasn’t right for this life, and you can never separate yourself from it.”

I don’t have to ask to know he’s talking about Lia. I mistakenly thought taking her out of Chicago would keep us both away from Rinaldo and his business. I couldn’t stay away though. I don’t know if it’s loyalty to Rinaldo, devotion to the business, or just my need to find someone in the crosshairs of my rifle, but I couldn’t remove myself from this life.

Understanding that he’s right doesn’t make it any easier to take his words. He knew. He knew all along that being with her would fail.

“You could have said something before I left.” My words sound harsher than I intend.

“Would you have listened?”

I close my eyes for a moment and clench my teeth. I fight against the urge to pull out my gun, but I’d never actually harm Rinaldo. I don’t want to shoot him; I just want to shoot someone.

I feel his hand on the side of my face before I see him move toward me. I look at his eyes and his soft, concerned expression.

“Sometimes you have to see for yourself,” he says quietly. “I knew I couldn’t convince you then. You had to experience it. I didn’t want to see you hurt, son.”

“You knew she’d leave me?”

“It was a matter of time,” he says with a nod. He drops his hand from my cheek, and the cool air from the room gives me a chill where our skin had met. “She’s not going to come back.”

“I know that. I don’t want her to.”

Rinaldo takes another swig from his scotch. I’m tempted to rethink the offer of a drink. Alcohol consumption is not a normal pastime for me, and I’m definitely not a “drink to forget” kind of guy, but a drink does actually sound good right now. Maybe more than one.

“Are you ready for business?” Rinaldo asks.

Focus on business is a better remedy.

“It has all my attention.” My confirmation is enough for him.

“I want you completely involved in all the channels. Guns will be back in your hands, obviously, but also the caviar and meth. There are the legitimate businesses as well—the clubs, uniform manufacturing, and car lots.”

“We’re dealing meth now?”

“Dealing, no.” Rinaldo takes a folder from the top of his desk and hands it to me. “Transportation from the south and distribution to Chicago dealers, yes. You should recognize the local names.”

I look at the top sheet of paper from the stack. I know most of the names. Everything else is a bit of a surprise to me. I’ve only been on the periphery of the legal businesses under Rinaldo’s umbrella in the past. I don’t even deal much with the laundering of my own money. I just keep it stashed away in cash.

I know plenty about the guns, caviar, and clubs.

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