Our handshake pops the tension in the room. The people here know they’ve got to follow the don’s lead, so the chatter starts up again, and the waiter who’s been standing frozen since Blake and I walked in starts to refill people’s glasses with red wine.
Cleo comes up to give me a tight hug before turning to Blake and doing the same to her. When she pulls away, she scans Blake’s face, looking a bit worried. “Can I get you a drink?”
Blake’s eyes find mine. I give her a small nod. Cleo’s probably still feeling bad about how she greeted Blake the first time they met, and she wants to smooth things over.
They move toward the bar while Rafe comes up to stand beside me, his eyes tracking Blake and his wife.
“Did you pick this place because Sandro used to like it, or because your wife’s finally managed to knock off a zero from your net worth?” I ask.
“She dropped that tactic to annoy me after I told her all it does is motivate me to make more money for her to spend.”
I chuckle. “Well-played.”
A waiter carrying a platter of hors d'oeuvres passes by the women. Cleo turns animatedly, pointing at something on the platter while speaking to Blake. I watch as the redhead grabs a napkin and loads it up with fried cheese balls. My lips quirk up.
“How’s it going with your wife?” Rafe asks. “She doesn’t seem to hate you anymore.”
“Yeah, we’ve made progress. I just want her to be happy here.”
“Is she?”
I mull it over for a moment. “Honestly? I don’t know.” The short time we spent at the shore was great, but I’m convinced there’s still something weighing her down. I’ve just got no idea what.
“You’ve been back here for weeks, and you’re telling me you still haven’t won her over? That’s not the Nero De Luca I remember. You never had any problems making women happy.”
“She’s different. Complex. I never quite have her all figured out.”
Rafe palms my shoulder. “Let’s sit.”
We move toward a quiet corner of the room and take a seat at one of the empty tables. The wooden chair squeaks beneath my weight.
Another waiter appears with a bottle of red and fills our glasses. When he leaves, I heave a sigh.
“So did you have to get Gino’s permission to have me here?”
A shadow passes over Rafe’s expression. “We talked.”
“Did he give you the full update on me?” I ask, wondering if Gino’s finally brought Rafe in on his plan to kill the pakhan.
“He didn’t say much.”
Apparently not.
“How’s he been treating you? He said you’re working with Alessio.”
I shrug. “Alessio’s not that bad. Completely fucking crazy and a pain in the ass, but I think I like him. He’s the kind of guy you definitely want on your side in a bar fight.”
Rafe takes a slug of his wine. “You been getting friendly with Cosimo too?”
I glance at him. “You sound a bit jealous.”
Rafe gives me a dark look, but I know I’m right. He misses me too. Maybe after I help get the Bratva out of our city, we’ll finally be able to hang out like we used to.
That nostalgic feeling from last night sweeps right through my chest again.
I clear my throat. “To answer your fucking question, of course not. God, that guy is such a self-important prick. Send Fabi my condolences. I can’t believe your angel of a sister is going to be married to that uptight fuck in just a few months.”
“He knows better than to treat her with anything other than respect,” Rafe says gruffly. “And your perception of him is skewed. You’ve always had something against him.”
