Teo picks up a thin file and hands it to me. “Here. You may as well see what you accomplished.”
Curiosity momentarily overriding my anger, I take the file and examine it. I stare at the name signed at the bottom for a beat too long. “It’s happened, then?”
“For the first time in recorded history, the Italian mafioso of Brooklyn and Manhattan have committed to an alliance. If people knew of the importance of such things, they’d probably hang that,” he gestures to the file, “in a museum.”
I snap the file closed and place it back on the desk. “You must be proud of your legacy,” I say sarcastically.
“Yourlegacy. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for your…”
I save him the trouble of finding the word. “Sacrifice?”
“I was going to saycommitment.”
“That’s funny because the last time you asked me to commit to the Guild, it didn’t involve blackmailing me with my father’s life.”
Teo does a double-take at me. “Iwhat?”
I’ve known Teo Vitale for a long time. Too long, really. The genuine surprise on his face causes my anger to cool briefly.
“I’m only going to ask you this once.” I hope the seriousness of my tone infers that I expect an earnest answer. “Did you or did you not threaten my father’s life if I did not go ahead with the marriage?”
Teo does not drop my gaze for even a second. “I did not. I would have never.”
There’s a moment of silence as I assess his words, his intonation, his most minor facial expressions.
Leon Natali may have claimed he hadn’t threatened my father’s life. But I don’t know him like I know Teo. And there is nothing about Teo Vitale that indicates that he’s lying to me right now.
The realization hits me a second later.
Leon had lied.
He’d lied, and then I’d slept with him.
The dam my anger had built against the onslaught of my misery began to crack. I blink away the tears in my eyes.
“Right,” I say, deflating away from discussion of the don. Suddenly, I’m very aware that I had threatened his life only a few moments ago.
Teo is watching me infuriatingly closely. “Did he threaten you?” His voice is cold, measured. Calculating.
I shake my head. “It was just something my father said.”
He swiftly picks up the thin file again and pushes it between us. “I will rip this contract in two?—”
I snatch it from him. “Don’t be so fucking dramatic. You said it yourself: this is a momentous occasion.”
Teo only stares at me, unwilling to back down until I give him something more.
“It’s worth it, isn’t it?” I remind him. “This fight against the Cartel, Amos Rubio…you need the Prince’s Hand. It’s me marrying him, or it’s the lives of everyone else. I’m not comfortable having their blood on my hands.”
Slowly, his gaze softens. “I didn’t want to ask this of you.”
“But the Guild was already asking you to do something about me, right? It makes sense,” I allow. “I hate it, but it makes sense. Your hands were tied.”
He runs said hand through his hair in exasperation. “Speaking of…”
I sit down heavily in one of the armchairs, already bracing myself for the worst. “Oh God, what?”
“You’re not a part of the Guild anymore. Not that you were before, but now that you’re on the more…Manhattan side of things, we think it’s best you step down from your position here.”
