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"I won't bore you with details about my work," I say, opening the door wider. "I hope the rest of your evening is as pleasant as dinner was."
Which is to say, not very pleasant at all. Still, Dante finally gets it through his head and wishes me a flowery goodnight, slipping in an innuendo about how he hopes to see me soon. Once I finally close the door on him, I take a deep breath to fight uneasy nausea in my gut.
If I don’t get my symptoms under control, someone is bound to notice, which would lead to me putting the future new reputation of the Mafia at risk. Of course, the most obvious choice is to quit my involvement with the assignment, but that would disappoint my parents.
I've never quit anything, so I don’t know exactly what that entails. But I don’t intend to find out.
I'll figure out how to control my pregnancy symptoms and emotions. I'll keep avoiding Roberto…even though I already missmio simpatico piantagraneso much it hurts.
Chapter 21
Roberto
AfterGiulialeavestheparty without a backward glance at me—with Dante fucking Parisi—Marcus gets pissed. Seriously, he's probably almost as mad about it as I am.
"Come on," he snaps, downing his shot in one go and shoving my shoulder slightly. "We're returning to Chicago, so you can forget all about that bitch."
I sear him with a look. "Watch your mouth before I break it."
"Open your eyes, Roberto—the ice queen was taking advantage of you and just showed her hand. Now we're in Russo territory while you're off your game, and she's out with thatstronzo. We need to get the hell out of here," he says, angry and quiet. Then he stalks toward Bruno, who is still talking with Mandi beside the cake that was never cut.
I watch him go, bristling. He's looking out for me but doesn't know Giulia. And although I haven't known her for long, I genuinelyknowher. She has a top-notch, immovable poker face, yet she was fighting tears when she told me to fuck off. That means something is going on, and even though I'm sure Bruno will agree with Marcus that we need to leave, I'm not about to walk away when I know something is wrong.
My eyes drift from Bruno to Mandi, and I make a snap decision. I set down the glass of whiskey I've been nursing to take the edge off how badly I wanted to break Dante Parisi's neck. Striding across the room, I reach Mandi and Bruno, not half a second after Marcus, ignoring my comrades' sharp eyes when I firmly grab her by the arm and pull her away.
"Roberto," Bruno growls after me, but I've already left them behind.
When we're out of earshot, Mandi blinks rapidly at me and pulls her arm back. She tucks blond hair behind one ear and clears her throat, eyes flickering around the way someone might if they were trying not to give something away.
Bingo. She's in on whatever happened to Giulia.
"Spill," I demand.
"S—spill what? I don’t have a drink to spill. And if you think I have a secret or something, you're completely wrong. I'm totally secret- and drink-free. I'm just waiting to get in on that cake."
"Tell me what happened to Giulia."
Mandi swallows hard. "God. I've never been interrogated by a Giovanni. Are you going to break my thumbs or something? Because…um, I'm pretty sure Giules would blow a fuse if—"
I give her a sardonic look that shuts her up. "Much as breaking some thumbs sounds nice now. I wouldn't hurt you because you're her friend. But as her friend, I'm sure you can tell when someone has her best interests in mind, and I'm sure you see I fall into that category. Tell me what's fucking happening. Is she in danger?"
The blonde examines me for a long moment and then looks at the other party-goers. I note that Tyson Russo is glowering in our direction. He and Bruno are both looking particularly put off, but I don’t give a rat's ass about that right now.
Finally, she sighs heavily and gives me an earnest look, blue eyes wide. "Look. You're right. I can tell that you've really got it bad for her, and if it were my secret to share, you'd be in on the loop. But it isn't, and I can't. You get loyalty, right? I wouldn't betray Giules even if youdidbreak my thumbs."
I can begrudgingly respect that, but I won't accept anything for my efforts.
"Fine. But do both her and me a favor, then. Keep an eye on her, and at least keep me updated on whether or not she's okay. I won't give up figuring out what she's keeping secret, but I need to know she's safe."
Mandi gives a small smile. "Wow. You really do have it bad for Giulia, huh?"
She has no idea.
Before I can get her agreement, Tyson Russo appears beside us. He's a high-profile enforcer my family has had run-ins with, not someone to mess with. A small part of me hopes he'll do something to piss me off further so I can get my turn to break his crooked nose—stalemate be damned.
But he just stiffly asks, "Something the matter?"
"Nope! Not at all!" Mandi says brightly, shooing him towards the cake. "Here—you do the honors of cutting into all that deliciousness, okay? And cut me off a big piece with lots of gold." Once he's distracted, she quickly returns to me and lowers her voice. "I'll keep you updated, loverboy, but I want your hot friend's number as payment."
