“Your cousin, right?”
“Yes. His father was my uncle. He died about ten years ago. Mydad always felt an obligation to take care of Riccardo since he had nobody else. So he tried to give him jobs, bring him into the fold.” She shakes her head. “But he’s a greedy bastard who doesn’t show respect or gratitude. He’s entitled and a loose cannon who causes problems because he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. He always wants more than he's earned, and he’s definitely pissed that he wasn’t my dad’s pick to run things himself since the attack.”
“Is he dangerous?”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her diamond stud earring glittering in the overhead light. “Not in the way you mean. He's not going to pull a gun on me. Or anything. But he's got a big mouth and a chip on his shoulder the size of Rhode Island. If anyone's going to challenge me publicly, it'll be him.”
“Okay, good to know.”
“He's also smart enough that my father couldn't justify cutting him loose. That's the problem. He's not bad enough to remove, but he's not loyal enough to trust.”
“So how are you going to play things out with him?”
“I won’t let him rattle me or give him an opening to talk shit about how things are going to work until my dad is back.” She meets my gaze, a smile tugging the corners of her lips. “And I’ll have you standing behind me glaring at him like you'd very much enjoy rearranging his face.”
I chuckle and finish my coffee. “Iwouldenjoy that. See? You already know me so well.”
And fuck me if a little dot of pink doesn’t pop into her cheeks at that. “I know. That's why it'll work.”
“You've got this, you know.”
She bites down on her lower lip. “You think so? I don’t ever second guess myself when it comes to business dealings, but this is so different. I have to convince these guys that I belong in the power position. I can’t let them see me as the little girl who’s trying to fill Daddy’s shoes. I need them to take me seriously and to respect my decisions.”
“Adriana, I watched you at our reception. I saw you shutdown my brother Ronan, and he’s not the guy who walks away without a fight. You made a toast that shut up an entire room of people who want to see you fail.” I shrug. “These guys might have more guns, but they're not smarter than you. They're not tougher than you. And they sure as hell aren't more prepared than you.”
She stares at me for a long minute. “You don't know that.”
I walk over to the island and rest my arms on it. “Yeah. I do. I’m pretty damn perceptive.”
She holds my gaze. Doesn't look away. “You really are so different than I thought,” she murmurs.
“I like to shock and awe,” I say with a wink. “Keeps people on their toes. Now, how about some breakfast?”
“Oh, I don't usually?—"
“Eat? Yeah, I noticed. We need to fix that.” I walk to the fridge and open the door. “I'm making eggs. You're eating them.”
Her eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
“You've got a room full of old-school mafia captains to intimidate in six hours. You need protein, not just caffeine.” I pull out eggs, butter, and some chopped vegetables I bought yesterday. “How do you like them?”
She stares at me like I've grown a second head. “Are you seriously making me breakfast?”
I waggle my eyebrows at her. “I'm making breakfast. You happen to be here. There's a difference.”
Her lips twitch. “Scrambled. If you're insisting.”
“I'm insisting.”
I fire up the pan on the stove and whisk the eggs and vegetables in a bowl. A small surge of victory flares in my chest as her words tumble around my mind.
“You really are so different than I thought.”
I don’t know why I want her to see the real me. Why I care. We both know what this is and what she’s made clear it definitely won’t be.
But she’s different, too. She’s shown more than a few glimpses of vulnerability, and there are so many more layers beyond the polished corporate tycoon façade she wears.
Layers I’ve come to enjoy peeling back. Layers that give me insight to the real woman I married.
