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"Nothing pretend about it," I insist.
He laughs. Thetesta di cazzolaughs.
"Vaffanculo,"I glower at him.
He raises his hands, "So you broke up with her, sent her on her way, and now you have people watching her. I fail to understand the logic in this."
"The logic in what?" Seb walks in and glances down at my whiskey. "You need a refill."
I hand the glass over to him and he stalks over to the bar. He snatches up a few more glasses, then proceeds to fill them up.
He walks over, hands a glass to Massimo and one to me. "Salute," he clinks the glass with both of ours. "What were you talking about?" he asks.
"Just how the Capo is tying himself up in knots." Massimo smirks.
"He hasn’t been the same since he fell in love."
"Love," Massimo shakes his head, "it’s been known to gut the fiercest of people. You’d have thoughtil nostro fratellone,here, stood a chance, eh? Considering he’s, on the face of it, at least, the toughest of all of us."
"You know what they say, the stronger they are…the harder they fall." Seb chuckles.
Massimo rises his glass, "I’ll drink to that."
"Che cazzo!"I glare at the two of them, "Since when did my love life—"
"Or the lack thereof," Massimo points out.
"What-fucking-ever. Same thing—"
"Not." Seb shakes his head. He turns to Massimo, "Ever known the Capo to be this short of words."
"Never," Massimo laments.
"He’d best get used to this state of affairs, eh?"
"Basta,"I growl. "Shut the fuck up, you two."
"You losing your temper again?" Adrian stalks in, heads straight for the bar. He bypasses the already poured glass of whiskey, leans over and grabs a Macallan thirty-year-old. He hefts it onto the counter and proceeds to open it.
"Thanks for checking in with me." I try to infuse sarcasm into my voice and fail.Merda.I am growing soft, all right. Or maybe not, considering I killed a man in cold blood yesterday. I’d hesitated, though, which had been a first for me. And now, I am unable to muster enough anger at my brothers and stepbrothers as they swarm all over my expensive liquor. I drain my glass and hold it out. Massimo grabs it from me, walks over to the bar and places it on the counter. Adrian opens the bottle and tops me up, then Massimo’s glass, then his own. He pours liquor into three more glasses, then pauses.
I stare at the glasses. So do Massimo and Seb.
Christian walks onto the terrace. He bumps into the back of a chair, "Oops!" he apologizes to no one in particular, then weaves over to the bar. He snatches up a glass of whiskey and sniffs it. "This iseccezionale."He tosses it back, then slams the glass onto the counter. "Top me up," he commands Adrian, who hesitates.
"Come on,brother." Christian hiccups, "It’s Christmas after all, and you know this is Xander’s favorite festival. Even though the man’s grown up, you’d think he was a kid the way he looks forward to the festive season. It feeds his creativity, he says, and—" Christian’s voice tapers off. "Fuck," he growls, "fuck, fuck, fuck." He grabs the bottle from Adrian, tops up his own glass. That’s when he spots the two other glasses. He freezes, then spinning around, carries the bottle and glass with him to a table in the far corner. He slaps them both on the table, before pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He lights one, blows out smoke.
"When did you start smoking?" I scowl.
"Don’t nag,fratellone," he takes another puff of his cigarette.
That’s when Luca enters the terrace. He glances between us, his gaze cautious. "I assume I have been invited to this?"
I nod my head at the same time that Christian growls, "Get the fuck out of here. You don’t deserve to be here,faccia di merda."
Luca doesn’t respond. He marches over to the bar, snatches up the glass of whiskey. That’s when he notices the last glass that’s topped to the rim with the amber fluid.
He pales. "Fuck," he growls as he keeps his gaze focused on the glass.
