Gino gave another slow nod. “Can I speak freely?”
“Of course.”
“Francesca hates your guts.”
“I don’t imagine there’s an Esposito alive who doesn’t,” he said drily.
“She doesn’t hate you for what you did to the family as a whole but for what you did to Siena.”
And just as he wished he could speak her name without having the sensation of a hot knife being plunged into his chest; Elio wished the same for whenever her name was uttered.
Keeping all emotion from his face, he looked Gino in the eye. “Siena always knew what she was getting into.”
And she’d married him regardless. To save Francesca from the fate she feared for her.
How, he’d wondered many times since they’d parted, had he known that his plot of insisting Francesca be his bride would work? How the hell had he been so sure that Siena would capitulate?
“I don’t disagree – Siena’s told us herself that she knew your vengeance wasn’t over when you married, but Francesca hero-worships her. She’ll go along with whatever decision I make, but it’s only fair to warn you that if I do agree to work with you, you are unlikely to be welcome in our home.”
“Noted. It doesn’t change my position.” Draining his whisky, he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Think about it and let me know. And let me know what you want to do with your shares in the Esposito Group.”
“I don’t need to think about it, but I do need to speak to Francesca before I confirm anything.”
“You’re on board?”
“Unofficially, yes.”
“Then we will shake hands on it when you confirm it officially.”
“Give me until the end of the weekend?”
“Sure.”
Only when they were about to leave the room did Elio find himself unable to hold himself back from casually asking, “How is Siena?”
Gino raised his shoulders. “Francesca thinks she’s pining for you, but I think that’s what she wants to see. Siena’s the same tough cookie she’s always been.”
“She is that,” Elio agreed, before, on impulse, he patted Gino’s shoulder. “Tell Francesca I’m glad Siena’s got her in her corner.”
Chapter Fifteen
Instead of leavingGino’s straight away and travelling to his Milanese casino as planned, Elio headed up two flights of stairs to the nightclub itself. The dark, seductive ambience meant he could prop up the bar and nurse another whisky or two in relative peace. By the time members made it to this floor, they were either amorous or drunk or both.
He’d seen Siena in here a couple of times. Watched her dance. Watched her pretend not to be watching him. He’d seen her in Gino’s Milan club, too. On those occasions, spotting her there had come with a jolt as he always associated her with their home city. Naples was where they both belonged.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it. Ignored the next buzz too. And the next.
There were so many people in his life connected to the Espositos. He had to assume that he felt off-kilter after seeing Gino because Gino’s connection was stronger than everyone else’s. Gino’s connection was personal. He was marrying Siena’s cousin. Technically, that would make them related by marriage. Make them family. Until Elio’s divorce came through, that was.
He hadn’t even looked into a divorce. He’d been too busy. Taking over an empire took a hell of a lot of energy and hours. Itwas the same reason he was yet to step into any of the casinos, not because whenever he thought of them, he imagined Siena closing the bar’s hatch and looking at him with such venom before pouring him that cheap whisky.
He couldn’t remember her looking at him with anything like that venom after that. As the days of their marriage had stretched into weeks, the venom had disappeared entirely. She’d even started greeting him with a welcoming smile.
Gino had called her a tough cookie. Elio used to think of her as that, too.
But she was more than that. A whole lot more.
He hated that his last memory of her was with a tear rolling down her cheek.
