Her face blanks out for a split second until my words register. Then she lets herself smile. Like, really smile. “No yoga. Sorry to disappoint. I just meant that they're going to have questions… about you, about us. About whether you're there to support me or take over.” She puts down her fork. “I need them to see you as mine. Not as a Molloy trying to absorb DiMicheli territory."
“Got it. What's the plan?”
“You stand behind me. Not beside me, behind me. You don't speak up unless I ask you to. You're there as backup, not leadership.” She meets my gaze. “Can you do that? Let me lead, even if things get a little heated?”
“It's your show. I'm just there to look intimidating.”
Her face relaxes a bit. “You're good at that.”
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
She nods slowly. “If someone challenges me, like, really challenges me, I need to handle it myself. That's the only way they'll respect me.”
“Agreed.” I pause. “But if someone threatens you? Physically?”
“Then, by all means, you can step in.”
“That's not negotiable, Adriana.”
Her cheeks flush again, eyes softening. Just enough for me to notice. Then in a blink, she’s back to business.
I guess our moment is over.
“We should leave by one,” she says as she stands up from the stool. “I want to get there early. Check the place out.”
“I'll be ready.”
She picks up her plate and carries it to the sink. She starts to wash it, but I take it from her.
“I’ve got this,” I say. “Go get ready to kick some ass.”
She pauses then hands it to me. “Lochlan.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For breakfast. And for... understanding. How I need this to work.”
I shrug. “That's what I'm here for. I told you I’d support you in this.”
Something passes between us… almost like an acknowledgment that whatever this is, it's shifting into something neither of us planned. Or know what to do with, for that matter.
She clears her throat and backs away from me. “I'm going to get ready,” she says. As soon as she turns toward the bedroom, Reaper jumps up and trots after her.
“You know,” I call after her, “you’re gonna eventually have to admit you like me. And Reaper.”
She doesn't turn around. But I hear her voice float into the hallway.
"Maybe Reaper. But don't hold your breath for anything more, Molloy.”
The door closes.
I stand in the kitchen, my legs crossed at the ankles, and smile. “Ouch.”
The warehouse smells like rust and motor oil.
Vincenzo picked the place. Neutral ground, he called it. Somewhere the capos would feel comfortable. Somewhere they could speak freely.
Translation… somewhere they could test Adriana without witnesses.
