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But I was born into a crime family, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I understand why Andrea is so worried about the Ricci family. If the Riccis gained that much power, our family would lose customers and associates and revenue. Our reputation would take a massive hit. I mean, we could lose everything, and that’s a scary thought.

As Carla brings me my mojito, Lorenzo has another thought.

“So what are we going to do about other families like the Russos? I mean they’re not a threat, but an alliance with them certainly wouldn’t hurt,” Lorenzo points out. “If nothing else, they could help with the funds to acquire those casinos.”

Now that sounds sensible. Aligning with someone else who thinks that the Riccis are a threat is a great basis for a strong relationship. That way Andrea doesn’t stand to lose everything, which is the last thing I want. My own selfish desires aside, my brother works hard to provide for our family.

Andrea sighs as though the weight of his decisions crushes him. “Juliano wouldn’t go for an alliance. He certainly wouldn’t entertain one with us. He doesn’t like us that much.”

Lorenzo shakes his head. “But that kid of his, Michael, the one who drives the BMW. He’s had his eye on Gia for a while now. He’s always trying to ask her out and get our approval to see her. Perhaps if we offer him a bride, we could merge the families naturally.”

I choke on my drink, my hand shaking slightly. What the hell is Lorenzo thinking? Michael is such a douche canoe. He runs to Daddy about everything; he’s a giant man-child.

Surely Andrea doesn’t agree to this. The men stay all silent for far too long, and goosebumps settle across my entire body, even though I’ve acclimated to the water. I strain my ears, waiting for an answer, my heart racing in my chest.

“Gia,” Andrea calls. “Come here a sec.”

My body floods with ice, and I go light-headed for a moment. I get out of the pool and approach the men with trepidation.

CHAPTER TWO

MATTEO

The shot rings out clear across the open field. It echoes as it slices through its intended target. I squint down the open-air range at the paper and frown before I raise the binoculars to my eyes to see where Bruno hit. I chuckle softly and look at him.

“Seven.”

“Goddammit. For fucks sake.” He shakes his head and starts to reload. “This is absolute bullshit.”

“Cool your jets,” I say calmly. “You’ll never be as good as Cosimo if you don’t practice more often.”

“I practice,” Bruno grumbles. “And no one can compare to a hitman who spends his life targeting people.”

I chuckle again. “You two started shooting at the same age. How is he so much better than you?”

“I have brains,” Bruno jokes. “Cosimo can only think with two things, and that’s his dick and his gun.”

I laugh at this. “Don’t tell that to the girls he brings over,” I point out, loading my own rifle.

“If they’re not scared off by his mangy face, then nothing will scare them off,” Bruno says.

“He’s handsome,” I point out. “He’s got that whole Jason Statham rugged look to him.”

“Don’t inflate his ego by telling him that. He can barely fit through the door with that big head of his as it is, and the twins will never stop calling him that.” Bruno steps back as I lock the rifle into my shoulder.

“I would never. Also, which twins, the boys or the girls?”

“Both.”

I take my shot, and Bruno quickly steps forward to look down the range. He raises the binoculars and frowns. “Dammit, how did you get a bullseye?”

“I’ve been shooting longer than both of you,” I say, reloading. “You talk a good game, Bruno, but let’s be honest, you don’t practice that often.”

Bruno pulls a face and mutters to himself as I step out of the way for him to take his shot.

“Steady now, lock it in good so you have a steady aim and control the kick,” I say.

“I know how to shoot, Matt,” Bruno mumbles, before the sound of his gun echoes across the field.