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"I… I did say that. But if your heart is set on it, then..." I raise a shoulder.
"So, you’re not unhappy that I’m marrying him?"
"No." I glance away.
"You’re not upset that he’ll be married to someone else?"
That ball of emotion in my throat drops to my chest, and it’s like a massive weight is pressing down on my lungs. Specks of black flicker at the corners of my eyes. I sway a little, and she grips my arm.
"Are you okay?"
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
"Did you eat anything today?"
I shake my head.
"Come on, have lunch with us."
"But—"
"No buts." She leans in closer. "I know you, Livvy. I know how upset you are. I know you have feelings for him."
"What? No." I try to pull away, but she tightens her grip on my arm. "You don’t have to hide it from me. I saw your emotions all over your face last night."
"And I saw how you looked at Declan."
She flushes, but doesn’t let go of me. "So, you understand why this engagement cannot happen."
"Solene." I stare. Not that I dispute what she’s saying, but a Mafia engagement between two clans cannot be broken—not without serious consequences. The band around my chest loosens, and I draw in a breath. Have I been that upset about the upcoming nuptials? Apparently, so.
One side of her lips kicks up. "I know what you’re thinking, but there’s a plan."
29
Massimo
"So, fifty percent of the overland routes through South Europe for running guns would belong to theCamorra?" Diego’s tone is steady but there is an underlying thread of excitement running through it. Since I got here, the man’s quizzed me about the benefits of the upcoming partnership, which he can’t wait to enjoy. I raise the glass of whiskey to my lips and sip from it. It’s not even lunch time, but the only way I could get through this meeting is with alcohol for company. It was a meeting I asked for. The only way to ensure I could see her again.
"Massimo?" Diego prompts me. "The gun routes?"
"Yes, theCosa Nostrawould hand the routes over once the nuptials are complete," I murmur.
"That’s good; that’s very good." He sips from his own glass… of bourbon. Never trust a man who prefers bourbon over whiskey, or so my father would say. Not that I’d trust thestronzo with much else, but it’s proved to be a warning sign countless times.
His features light up. He doesn’t even bother hiding his glee at my confirmation. "Salute." He raises his glass. I drain mine without bothering to clink glasses with him.
His jaw hardens, but he doesn’t admonish me. That’s what happens when you want something with so much desperation; you’ll put up with the insult to get it. He drains his own glass and sets it aside.
"And the routes which are with the Bratva—"
"Stay with them. And our prior arrangements with the Kane company stay, as well. They are our allies, which also makes them your allies. Don’t forget that."
He draws in a breath. "I don’t trust either of them."
"You don’t have a choice in the matter. It’s the cost of doing business with theCosa Nostra."
I hear a noise at the door, but continue to focus on thepezzo di merdawho jerks his chin. "You should know, I’m pursuing an alliance with the Mexicans for my remaining sister."
