Page 121 of Vow Of Fire

Her smile faded.

“I must admit, I’ve been eager to meet the woman who tamed my brother,” Marco drawled, studying me over his tumbler of whiskey.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dante interjected. “Lay off. Evelyn is part of this now. The least you could do is show her some respect.”

“Respect is earned,” Marco murmured, turning away. I felt the cold dismissal like a personal attack.

“And I haven’t earned it yet?” I asked, anger making my voice clear.

He tilted his head as if to say, exactly.

“Clearly, using my gallery to launder your money, using my containers to ship your drugs, and using me to manipulate your enemy isn’t enough.”

Marco’s mouth formed a straight line, but there was interest in those hard blue eyes.

Dante put a warning hand on my arm, but I shrugged him off. I didn’t need him to fight my battles for me, especially verbally. I was pretty darn good at that on my own.

Izzy clocked the gesture and raised an eyebrow. “My, she’s feisty, Dante. You sure you can handle her?”

“Enough,” Valentina interjected sharply. “Dante, control her or she’ll get herself into trouble.”

“She’s quite capable of controlling herself,” I bit out.

Valentina looked poised to tear into me, but I was saved from a reprimand by Leo’s arrival.

“I see I’m late to the party,” drawled a white-haired man in his late-seventies supporting himself with a cane. He was tall, despite his age, and had an almost reverent presence that was hard to describe, but evident by the way the room fell silent.

“Leo,” Valentina gushed, getting to her feet.

I watched as she crossed the floor and kissed her father-in-law, the former Don, on both cheeks. He nodded at her, but there was no fondness there.

It was strange to see the ice queen humbled by another family member. Leo might no longer be the ruling patriarch, but I could tell he was still very much the one everybody deferred to.

Marco got up next and shook the former Don’s hand. Nico followed suit, as did Dante, while only Izzy embraced him in a warm hug.

“Hello, grandfather,” she said fondly.

He smiled down at her, eyes crinkling. It was clear who the favorite was.

After she’d gone back to her seat, his gaze fell on me. I got to my feet and walked over to shake his hand. “Sir, it’s a pleasure.”

He took it in his weathered one, and I was surprised by his grip strength. “I doubt that, but it’s kind of you to say so.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

He held on to my hand. “I believe you’re helping us with our little Colombian problem?”

That was one way of putting it.

“It seemed the smartest option under the circumstances,” I replied evenly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Marco bristle. I didn’t think he liked me very much.

Il Lupo gave another chuckle and looked past me to Dante. “I like her, Fuochino. She has spirit.”

Dante gave a stiff nod, a wary look in his eyes. He wasn’t sure how this was going to pan out. Neither was I, to be honest. But I did know one thing, if I showed weakness in this family, I’d be eaten for breakfast.

The art world was no joke, and fighting my way to the top had taken a considerable amount of determination. I’d learned the hard way how to hold my own, and I drew on that experience now.

Fuochino. I stored it away. I’d be asking him about that nickname later.