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“If I could tell you, you’d already know. I’m not holding out on you to be cruel. It’s clan business. Your mother’s right about that.”
Frustration squeezes my chest tightly. He’s lying, because if it was about clan business, then how does Mama know? “She knows…”
“She knows parts of it. Not the whole picture.” He shuts his eyes and wavers in his chair.
I wrap my arm around his torso, feeling the deep concavity of his abdomen. He’s lost more weight recently. “No more fighting today. You’re tired. Let’s go upstairs.”
The sound of men’s voices drift into the dining room from the living room.
He stiffens and tries to get up. “Someone came for me.”
I tighten my arm around him and effortlessly keep him seated. “No, you’re going to exhaust yourself.” I bite my lower lip. Of course, I’m the one who’s exhausted him with my relentless arguing the past few hours. “I’ll go see who it is and whether Mama can take care of it on her own.”
My mother’s either very good with people or very bad, depending on whether she likes them or not. In contrast, I can manage just about anyone who stops by the house. I’ve been running interference for Mama for years, just like Tata has. He relaxes into the chair and nods his approval, which reinforces my worry about his health.
I leave him, glancing back with concern. I was so wrapped up in my anger and feelings of betrayal that I didn’t notice how tired he was until he practically fell over at the table. Of course, now I feel awful.
I head toward the living room, muttering recriminations to myself, and stop in my tracks when I see who it is. My heart sinks.
It’s Marku, with his best friend, Lucian. I can’t help but notice how good he looks, from his dark head of curls that look ruffled, down to his wing-tip shoes. He’s in a suit, and boy, can this guy fill out a suit.
My chin snaps up, and I look down my nose at him.Focus, Crina, Focus.
A suit also means that he’s either coming from doing business or church, and if I know anything about this guy, it sure isn’t church. These two suited, uber-masculine men sitting on my mother’s chintz sofa is quite a contrast, but he’s been here enough times that he looks as comfortable as he would in his own house. At the sight of the comfort level of this snake, sitting in my living room, one side of my lip curls up.
He’s chuckling at something my mother had said, but the moment he notices me, his laughter dies. Scanning me from head to toe, he unhurriedly rises to his feet, and gives me his signature smirk.
I glance at my mother. “What the hell are they doing here?”
“Crina! Manners.”
Ignoring her reprimand, I grind out, “Tata needs you to help him with something,Mama.” I leave it vague for the sake of our guests, but she understands my message. “I just came out here to check if it was anyone for him.” I give Marku a slow once-over that ends in a fierce glare. “If I were only so lucky.”
“Crina, really.”
Marku clasps his hands in front of him as if he’s some sort of choir boy. Puh-lease. Who would ever fall for that fake pious act? Turning toward my mother, he says pleasantly, “Tanti, she’s under stress. If you give us a moment, I’m sure I can address any of her concerns.”
I narrow my eyes, throwing daggers at him with every ounce of hatred I have for him. Oh, he thinks he can address my concerns, huh?
Fat chance, buddy.
While I’m trying to keep it together, my mother’s entire face transforms in response to Marku. She breaks into a smile, tilting her head almost coquettishly. I roll my eyes.
Dear God, this is ridiculous.
“Of course, Marku.” She nods formally to Lucian whom she’s never been a huge fan of. “Take all the time you need. I’ll just go and see what Dan needs.” As she passes, she gives him a hug and whispers—loud enough for anyone within a mile radius to hear—“Welcome to the family,draga.” I roll my eyes at the endearment. “You’ve always been like a son to Dan and me. This only makes it official.”
I barely hold back from gagging at that last statement.
With a final pat of his arm, she glides blissfully away, leaving me stewing in fury.
The instant she’s gone, Lucian jets to the farthest part of the room and fiddles on his phone, blocking us out completely.
The moment we’re basically alone, I demand, “What the hell were you thinking coming here?” Jutting my thumb at Lucian. “And with your sidekick over there. What, is his presence and the fact that you’re wearing a suit supposed to somehow legitimize this entire farce?”
Now that there are no parents to impress, Marku’s entire demeanor alters instantaneously. Gone is the respectful choir boy. In its place is the raw brute I know so well. It’s why he’s only good for one thing and one thing only.
“It’s no farce, Crina,” he boldly states. “This is happening. In two days, to be exact.”
