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Angelo coughs, and Santino shoots him an exasperated look.
“She wants your protection without the extra… strings,” Santino adds.
“What did she promise you, Angelo?” I ask, because it’s clear Lucia didn’t have to work very hard to win Santino over. “I doubt she sucked your cock in payment.”
Unfortunately, the server is just within earshot and nearly stumbles with the tray of food. She gives us a horrified look, and Angelo grins at her.
“Don’t worry, we’ll pay in cash for you.”
That doesn’t do anything to reassure the waitress, but it does mean she’s quick to place the food. “L-let me know if you need anything else,” she mumbles, but she’s gone before any of us can say anything.
Santino scowls at Angelo. “This is why Lucia didn’t like hanging out with you.”
Angelo shrugs and starts cutting into his very expensive steak. He dips the meat into the sauce, and adds, “I hope they didn’t season this dressing with sleeping pills.”
Santino’s scowl deepens. “She’s not mad about that anymore!”
“I’m sure all is forgiven, Santino,” I tell him condescendingly, and he turns that frown onto me. “Angelo is still a beast, I’m still a monster, but you sincerely care about her, and she knows it.”
“She does,” he mumbles before digging into his plate of fish.
As much as I’m enjoying this easy bantering between us—annoying proof that I like both Angelo and Santino’s company—it doesn’t solve any of the issues hanging between us.
“Unless you have a very compelling argument, Angelo, I’m going to decline,” I say calmly.
Angelo laughs at me. “My compelling argument isget rid of Pavone. I already…oustedBellini for you—you’re fucking welcome, by the way—but we both know you aren’t satisfied where you are. You’re not as big a fish as you want to be. So you can help us, and all four of us get what we want… or, I guess, I figure out how to get Lucia’s family out and we all fuck off to Mexico. Without either of you.” He raises his glass in a mock toast and takes another gulp of his wine.
He presents it so matter-of-factly, but I know it isn’t that easy. Getting four people out of the country is a lot harder than getting just two out, and that’s not even considering any ties Angelo might have in the area. I have no doubts that Angelo could kill Pavone, but that alone wouldn’t offer any security.
He and Lucia do need me just as badly as I need them.
I pause. I don’tneedLucia. But it’s hard to deny that she’s uniquely positioned right now to gather information that I’d be hard-pressed to learn otherwise. A plan starts to form in my head, one that will get rid of Pavone and firmly turn loyalties in my favor.
“She wouldn’t leave without me,” Santino insists.
Angelo snorts. “She’d leave in a heartbeat to protect her family, Saint. And we all know you aren’t going to up and abandon Victor, even if you were invited.”
I study Santino. Would he? I don’t think he’d ever leave my side, but I’ve been wrong before. This wouldn’t be something I’d like to be wrong about, either. The idea of allfiveof them going to Mexico and leaving me to deal with the mess alone is not an appealing one.
Santino looks between us, then drinks deep from his wine glass like the liquid courage is going to help him out. “I don’t know what I’d do. But I want to help Lucia, and that means Victor gets what he wants too. All of us can get what we want. There’s no reason to split up.”
No reason indeed.
Giving in to Lucia, after her disappearing act, would rankle. But it would be unbelievably stupid to pass over an opportunity like this simply because of some damaged pride.
“Fine,” I say curtly. “I might be willing to help. But I want to meet with Lucia in person. I want to hear exactly what she has to say.”
Angelo grins at me. “Somehow I knew you were going to say that.” He reaches down and retrieves something from his coat pocket, which he flings in my direction. It thankfully doesn’t land on any of the food.
I pick up the small, folded card, its edges reddish brown with dried blood.
You’re invited to the wedding of Emilio Pavone and Lucia Bellini…
I read the rest of the information. My name is scribbled in a very different handwriting from the rest of it.
My eyebrows go up. “Is thishandwritten?”
Angelo barks out a laugh. “Right? Lucia’s been working on these for ages. Pavone’s such a fucking sadist. I don’t think even you would make somebody hand write five hundred plus invites.”
