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There was no tactful way to explain, so I got straight to the point. “When Luca and I broke up, I went to Mexico on vacation. I met a guy there, never got his name, and fucked him. It was Lorenzo. I’d never seen him before the breakup or after we got back together, but I saw him today at the wedding. Is there any way he didn’t know who I was?”
Marco’s jaw clenched, and he stood. “Jesus Christ.” He flattened his palms on the desk and hung his head—the perfect picture of exhaustion from bullshit. “No. You’ve been on the family’s radar since the first night you were with Luca. He would’ve known exactly who you were.”
A skeeved-out shiver went down my spine. “Why would he pretend not to know me? Why would he want to fuck his cousin’s ex?”
Marco’s gaze swung to me. “Lorenzo’s a fucking asshole. He’s always done shit like this.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“I’m not trying to be reassuring. Did he say something to you?”
I leaned against the door, ready for the whole day to be over. “No, but he had a front-row seat to Luca’s arrest. And he had my bouquet.”
Marco raised an eyebrow. “Your flowers?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t even know what to do with that.” Marco shook his head and went to the drink cart. “I guess I’ll add Lorenzo to the list of shit to handle for Luca.”
“Wait. How long are you expecting Luca to be in jail?”
He looked up from the ice bucket, silver tongs in hand. “The bail hearing should be Monday, but there are no guarantees.”
“But Morettis don’t do time.”
The corner of Marco’s mouth turned up, and he nodded. “You’ve been talking to Rosa?”
“Sarah.”
He sighed as he swirled the crystal tumbler in his hand. “Morettis go to jail, but usually not the boss.” He took a sip. “No. In true Luca fashion, he’s the first Moretti boss to get arrested. Now I have to keep the family afloat, get his ass out, and figure out what the fuck Lorenzo was thinking.” He tilted his glass toward me in an offer.
I tsked and crossed my arms. “Being the underboss is no joke.”
He snorted. “Make sure you remember that.”
Silence settled between us as he took a hearty drink. The distant look in his eyes made me wonder what he had planned. “Do you need me to do anything?”
Startled by my question, he frowned and set his glass down. “You’ve been a Moretti for five minutes, and you’re ready to go to war with us?”
“Absolutely.”
Marco gave me a rueful smile. “I can’t believe how wrong I was about you.”
“Eh. As long as you get Luca out of jail, consider yourself forgiven.”
“Knock. Knock.” I startled away from the door as Rosa called out in rhythm with her knocks. She poked her head in and said, “Your plate’s on the counter.” She looked past me at Marco. “You hungry?”
“No, Aunt Rosa. Thank you.”
She eyed him for a moment but didn’t argue. “Come on, Sasha.” The door swung open. “Let’s get you fed and out of that dress.”
Marco chuckled, and I shot him a glare over my shoulder as Rosa led me out of the room. Every person we passed on our march through the house gave me the same bullshit tight-lipped smile.
Slowing my pace, I pulled her back. “Uh. I think I’d like to get out of this dress, then maybe try to eat something. I’m more uncomfortable than hungry.”
She pursed her lips but changed directions. When we reached the bedroom, I paused, and Rosa had to guide me to the mirror.
“Wow,” I muttered. To say I looked rough would’ve been a massive understatement. I struggled to reach the line of buttons on my lower back, the tips of my fingers just brushing them.
