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“Marco, you have to do something!” Melina cries.
“Helena is fine.”
“Bullshit. What the fuck is with you, Marco? You can’t convince me that you don’t care for Helena. I won’t believe it.”
“You’re starting to sound just like your husband,” I laugh. Hearing my sister curse is different, but feeling her fire is good. She’s completely healed from the shit we’ve lived through, and I know DeLuca is the reason. Yet another reason to be beholden to the asshole. Such is my lot in life I suppose. There are worse things.
In response, DeLuca—who is sitting on a sofa in my office—pulls my very pregnant sister onto his lap. “She’s magnificent,” he proclaims as he wraps his arms around her. I sigh yet again because I can’t begin to argue. Since falling in love with the man, she’s blossomed. She oozes happiness. It’s a welcomed sight—especially with the hell that we all lived through.
“Did you tell Helena she needed to come home?” I ask Melina point blank.
“Yes. She told me she was a grown woman and was handling things. Then, she told me I was overreacting.”
“Then maybe you should listen to her and me,” I respond.
“You need to man up, Marco, before you lose the best thing that could ever happen to you,” Melina warns.
“Man up?”
DeLuca and my brother Sebastian don’t bother to hide their amusement.
“You heard me,” Melina huffs. “I’m getting ready to be a mother and I refuse to have my child’s aunt tied to an ass-wipe.”
“An ass-wipe?” I repeat. I try to keep my voice stern, but even I can hear the amusement that bleeds through.
“An American word that I learned from Antonio,” she explains, huffing out an annoyed breath. “Zervas is an ass-wipe, right, honey?”
“Yeah, Lina. He’s definitely an ass-wipe,” DeLuca responds. She beams at her husband and he kisses her. I shake my head. Those two are so in love that it’s almost sickening.
“Don’t encourage her, DeLuca.”
He ignores me but I watch as he pulls back from my sister’s kiss and the look on his face is startling. That man is completely wrapped up in my sister.
I owe him a lot. He didn’t have to trust me to take over things here. Yet, he did. Sure, he has his men watching over me, but he’s slowly loosened those reins. I’ve been proving myself and he’s shown me that he appreciates my efforts—and those of my brothers. You would think at my age, I wouldn’t need that, but I have to fucking admit it feels good to prove myself. Somewhere deep inside, I have this worry that because I am my father’s son, I might destroy everything I touch. It’s reassuring to know that hasn’t been the case.
I look around my new office inside what will eventually be mine and Helena’s home. I just moved into the space last night. The building of our house and what my brothers have nicknamed the Stratakis and DeLuca compound is finally happening. There are only four rooms finished in mine and Helena’s house—our bedroom and bath, my office, and the front foyer. The others are slowly being added. Since my brothers are perfectly happy in their hotel, the construction crew is currently working on the massive kitchen and formal dining area. Once this house is finished, the crew will move on to complete the main entrance with the offices and the underground area for the men. There will also be a wing for my family that is secure in case we go into lockdown. The brothers can move there from the hotel when it is done, while their own homes are being completed. I’m pleased with the design and the way it’s coming together. Hell, DeLuca was so impressed with this ideal, he’s thinking of building something similar in his home—especially with a baby on the way.
It's a massive project here. The new build could probably house a third world country, and there’s a lot to do. Still, it feels good to have an office that’s not in a damn construction trailer.
My cellphone rings and I frown as I pick it up. “I have to take this,” I mutter in DeLuca’s direction. Since I work for him, taking calls while I’m supposed to be in a meeting with him, is probably rude. I don’t have a choice, however. I need to answer this one. It’s EZ and I’ve learned the hard way that when he calls, I better take it because when he’s doing other shit, he will not answer his phone.
“Yeah?” I answer.
I don’t bother with pleasantries. EZ is not the kind of guy to use them unless he’s in the mood and since I’ve been in contact with him, he’s not been. He’s been a man on a mission. I asked him if there has been a change and he said he had some personal shit he needed to attend to, so I let it go. I got enough of my own bullshit. I don’t need to hear his—even if he would tell it to me. Between my brothers, and DeLuca I got enough men that I may have to sort out—let alone the female side. I’m not looking to become buddies with this fucker. There are days I’m not even sure I like him.
