“Not always. Just after that time he stole my fucking wine. Do you remember that? A whole crate I personally ordered from that producer in Tuscany.”
Rafe smirks. “Oh yeah.”
“It was sitting there, waiting for me at Velluto, and he saw it in the cellar and demanded Tanner sell it to him. That kind of move shows a man’s character. That guy’s gotnone.”
“I remember you making Sandro drive you over to Ferraro’s at midnight so that you could confront Cosimo,” Rafe says with a low chuckle.
“And the prick wouldn’t even come down to talk to me.” I lean back in my chair. “You know, I think Sandro actually brought me here afterward so that I could have a glass and calm down. There are plenty of guys who would've just wanted to get rid of their fuming boss as soon as they could, but Sandro was never scared of my anger.”
Rafe nods, his gaze anchored on his glass. “He wasn’t scared of much.”
My chest grows tight. No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t even scared of death, because there’s no way he would have thought to give Blake his car keys if he’d been consumed by fear.
“I killed the guys who got him, but it doesn’t feel like enough.”
Rafe’s expression darkens. “Last week, we caught two Iron Raptors sniffing around one of our warehouses in Albany.”
“For real? Jesus. I can’t believe they’d be stupid enough to cross into our territory.”
“We gave them a firm warning. Told them you were one of ours, and that moving on you would mean moving on both the Messeros and the Ferraros.”
“I doubt Gino would lift a finger if it came down to it.”
“Yeah, well, given he and I will be family soon, he won’t have a choice.”
“You think they’re something we should be concerned about?”
“No. I doubt we’ll see them around here again, but I’d be careful when traveling. Unless you want me to make contact with their president and see if we can come to an understanding. But given how many of their guys you killed…” He grimaces. “It won’t be straightforward.”
I rub my palm over my chin. “Yeah, I know.” If Rafe pulled it off though, it would mean Blake could leave the state. She could go see her friend in California. Maybe that’s what she needs.
What if she likes it so much there that she decides to never come back?
I twist the stem of my wineglass. “Have you ever felt wrong for doing what we do?”
Rafe shrugs. “I think wrong and right are arbitrary human constructs. What we do is survive. If we stop, we die. That’s always been clear to me.”
“Me too.” But I’ve never had anyone push me to question it the way Blake has. And there’s a nagging fear at the back of my mind that she still thinks she won’t be able to thrive in this world. Like she’s somehow not enough. Is that the reason for the doubt I sometimes see flicker in her eyes?
Pulling her into this thing with Maksim set the wrong precedent. It made her think she needs to be an active player in the game. That just isn’t the case. Rafe would have never let Cleo get involved in something like this, so what the hell was I thinking?
My jaw clenches. I need to be better at protecting her from the darkest parts of this life. They’re mine to navigate, not hers.
The crowd swells with some latecomers, drawing my attention to it.
Rafe stands up. “That should be everyone.” He glances at me. “Care to say a few words?”
I clear my throat and get to my feet. “Yeah.”
There’s a small stage set up in the corner where a live band usually plays. Today, there's just a mic on a stand there.
I get up on the stage. It’s hard to gather my thoughts, so I close my eyes.
There are so many things I could say. So many stories I could tell.
He was only twenty-two. What kind of a life could he have lived if he'd had more time?
Someone taps their fork against a glass. A few seconds pass before the room grows quiet.
