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“Thank you for the hospitality, Aria.”
“You’re welcome.”
She had to fight to free herself from his gaze. When she finally managed to look away, she couldn’t get back to the bar fast enough. She poured another shot of bourbon, drank it down and chased it with ice water. She forced herself to concentrate on the conversation now resuming across the room.
“My business isn’t for sale,” Primo said. “I’m sorry you wasted your time.”
There was a long pause as Damian seemed to consider his words.
“One of us will be out of business by this time next year,” Damian said. “At least this way you’re compensated for the work you’ve put into the territory.”
“You must be referring to the Syndicate,” Primo said.
Damian nodded. Aria noticed he hadn’t touched his drink. “They’re reclaiming the territory now that Vitale is back in charge. They’ve authorized me to make an offer to buy you out before they take it by force.”
“So is this your offer or theirs?” Primo asked.
“Irrelevant,” Damian said. “The offer is what it is. You take the money and you walk away. It’s the only opportunity you’ll have to do so.”
“What about you? Have they made you an offer as well?” Primo asked.
“Also irrelevant,” Damian said.
Aria couldn’t help being impressed even as she held her breath. It would have been easier to believe he was stupid than brave if she hadn’t looked into his eyes. If she hadn't seen what lurked there for herself.
But she had, and there was nothing stupid about him. Which left a kind of bravery she’d never been witness to as an observer of Primo’s organization. His men were thugs. They talked big when they had a gun in their hand, when they were bigger than the person they were facing down, when they outnumbered an opponent.
This was something else.
She almost wondered if Damian Cavallo had a death wish.
Damian stood, and the other men quickly followed suit.
“Thank you for listening to our offer,” Damian said. “I’ll leave it open for the next twenty-four hours in case you change your mind. After that it’s off the table for good.”
He’d already turned to leave when Primo picked up the folder and tossed it at him. The papers inside fluttered out, drifted around Damian’s shoulders. He paused and headed for the stairs without looking back, his underboss in tow.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him. The rigid spine and wide shoulders, the slow amble toward the staircase that said he wasn’t at all concerned about the outcome of their meeting, although it couldn’t have been the one he’d hoped for. He had one foot on the step when he surprised her by turning around, his eyes finding hers across the room.
She thought he might say something, anything, to break the intensity of the moment. Instead he just looked at her, a question in his eyes she couldn’t define, the answer even further from her grasp.
The moment seemed to stretch between them. Then he was turning back around, heading up the stairs with the blond man covering his back.
