Page 33 of Where the Wind Whispers

“Carmine was barely eighteen,” the man agreed. “I think I liked him better then.”

Carmine barely looked up from the glass of amber colored liquid in his hand, but he did manage a smirk of sorts. “You wouldn’t be the first to say that, Accardo.”

“Carmine.” Alberto’s tone dipped a single cadence as he said his son’s name, a ring of warning chasing fast behind. “We’re among friends.”

“Because you need those now,” Carmine replied, deadpan.

Violet was … lost.

“Car—”

“Now, now,” the man interrupted, a chuckle forcing its way past his false smile. “It’s fine, Alberto. He’s right to be … hesitant.”

Still, Alberto gave Carmine a quick look and said, “Friends, figlio.”

Violet was never more thankful for an interruption than when the server returned with wine and water balanced on a tray. She opted for the water, knowing damn well she couldn’t drink, even if it would make the dinner pass by faster.

Once the server was gone again, Alberto’s attention was back on his guest. “It’s been a while, Angelo. What have I missed since the last time I visited Philly?”

For some reason, Violet felt like there was a secret passing around the people at the table, but it had skipped her completely. Her brother was watching her from the corner of his eye, his glass tipped high for him to sip from. The conversation between her father and this … Angelo Accardo … continued in the background, as if they were old friends catching up.

“And you, Carmine,” Angelo said loudly, breaking Violet’s train of thought, “you were married and didn’t even bother to send us an invitation, my boy. Imagine my surprise.”

Carmine’s sardonic smile melted away. “It came about kind of fast.”

Alberto coughed at the head of the table. “Yes, and we certainly needed the distraction.”

The way his gaze cut to Violet again, she knew without a doubt he was talking about her little episode with Kaz and running off to Chicago. Apparently, that was when Nicole and Carmine’s wedding had taken place, though no one talked very much about it.

It made Violet wonder if someone had something to hide.

The wedding couldn’t have been just a distraction for the public to keep the attention off the fact Violet had taken off with Kaz.

No one got married to distract others.

Right?

“Well, congratulations are still in order,” Angelo said, holding his glass of wine high. “Congrats, Carmine.”

Carmine held his own glass up in response, but hesitated on his words as his gaze focused on something—or rather, someone—behind Angelo. Violet followed her brother’s gaze to find yet another stranger dressed impeccably with golden rings adorning fingers. The disinterest on the man’s face was clear as the server moved just beyond his form in the entry to introduce him.

He looked no older than Carmine was, and if he was, it couldn't be by very much. He was good-looking and filled his suit out well. His posture spoke of confidence and arrogance, while his scowl spoke of attitude and a lack of patience.

In a blink at the sight of the newcomer, Carmine’s disgust and irritation was suddenly back. It was almost as if he’d smelled something bad and got a taste of it all at the same time.

“Get on with it,” the man snapped at the server.

Violet blinked at the rudeness in the man’s tone.

Carmine didn’t seem surprised.

Angelo, however, sighed. “Son …”

“Caesar Accardo,” the server muttered.

The man was quick to disappear again.

Caesar.