Page 131 of Loyalty

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Careful conversation flowed at the Marcello dinner table. Siena couldn’t help but notice how everyone made a great effort not to discuss anything too personal or behind the scenes when it came to their family. If someone did accidentally say something of that nature, Dante Marcello’s gaze would dart in Siena’s direction, and the topic would change.

She tried not to be offended.

She didn’t want to take it personally.

It still stung a little.

John kept one hand on her leg under the table while at the same time, discussing the upcoming opening of a new restaurant with Andino at his left.

Across the table, Lucian Marcello’s gaze continued to drift between Siena, and his son. Lucian, maybe even more than Dante, was the most intimidating to Siena. Where the others were loud and talked, he was still and quiet. His presence felt imposing. His words—when he did speak—were careful and delivered with a flat tone.

She didn’t know what to make of him at all.

“You work with your brothers and father, don’t you?” Lucian asked.

John’s fingers squeezed Siena’s thigh at his father’s question. She, too, was surprised Lucian had engaged her outright in conversation. He hadn’t done that yet, except to say hello earlier. Very little else.

Siena answered quickly. “I do.”

“Doing what?”

“I handle all the bookkeeping and accounting for them.”

Lucian’s brow raised at that statement. She wasn’t sure if it was surprise, disbelief, or interest. He gave nothing away. Hell, it could have been all three.

“For all their businesses?” Lucian pressed.

The chatter at the table had all but stopped. All eyes were on their interaction. John had yet to step in and speak, but Siena was grateful he didn’t.

“All of it,” she replied.

Down at the other end of the table, Dante spoke up. “I don’t think you understand what my brother means when he says all of it, Siena.”

She passed a look down the way. “I do know what he means. And yes, all of it.”

Criminal.

Legal.

She did it all.

Siena wasn’t supposed to talk about those things outside of her immediate family, but she wanted that one thing to be clear. She didn’t say things she didn’t mean, and she understood exactly what these men were.

“Smart girl,” said the redheaded woman beside Dante.

His wife.

Catrina.

And she was wearing red, just like Coraline said.

“And how does your father feel about …” Lucian waved between Siena and John before saying, “This whole thing.”

“Fine, I assume.”

Lucian’s lips curved a bit—not a complete smile, but not the expressionless, grim line he had been sporting. “You assume?”