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“You okay?”
“Where is Diego?”
“Thankfully, with Lorenzo.”
I roll my shoulders. “He’ll be mad?”
Unscrewing the lid on a bottle of Irish whiskey, Leonardo ignores me. “I found this in Cosimo’s office. It was sitting in a locked cabinet. Must be important or expensive.”
“So you took it?”
“Of course I did.”
“What will Cosimo do if he sees me drinking his sacred whiskey?” Not that I honestly care at this point. Those women pissed me off, and the burn of alcohol might dilute some of my animosity.
Women who tear down others are a great weakness in this world. We should be standing united. Once women collectively accept that we’re just as powerful, if not more than our male counterparts when we stand as a unified group, we’ll move toward a future that we deserve—one where our worth isn’t determined by a number on a scale or our ability to reproduce. Our intellect, drive, and ambition aren’t substandard. Our capabilities are stronger—we can manage all we do while running households and businesses. Men belittle us every chance they get. We take on more than they could ever handle, yet a lot of them still consider themselves superior because they can swing their cock around.
What would Christina have said had I told her I, like her, was forced into a marriage in myprimechild-rearing years, but my husband was impotent? Loyalty is something I pride myself on. My marriage may have been a farce, but my vows weren’t. Diego will be my first opportunity to consider a family, and he told me without hesitation that he never even wanted to get married. I’m not stupid enough to ask him about kids when I’m still convinced he hates me a little bit less than he likes to fuck me. He likes the feel of his cock inside me, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgiven me for the life I have forced him into. Even if I was trying to save his life, he’ll never know that.
“Thinking pretty hard there, Alessia.”
I yank the bottle from Leonardo’s grasp and lift it to my lips. Swallowing a sizable gulp, I shake my head, my eyes watering at the way the liquid burns.
I hand it back.
“I was wondering why people have to be so shitty.”
The underboss of New York laughs. “When people are filled with toxicity, the only way they know how to expel it is to throw it at others. Unfortunately, all that does is multiply that festering poison inside them and make them feel worse.”
“We should feel bad about the burden of their negativity even though they bring it on themselves?” I question curiously.
“Absolutely,” Leonardo declares. “Imagine being that miserableallthe time. How exhausting. I’d much prefer to smile at their venomous frown and live my life knowing I go to sleep at night with women in my bed, money in my bank account, and stolen whiskey on my tongue.”
I smile, taking the bottle back.
“Meaning, I live my life the wayIwant, and I do it unapologetically. How someonethinksI should live my life is none of my business.”
“Your ability to carry children or keep a man’s attention likely isn’t questioned daily.”
He shrugs. “My nickname in the outfit is Romeo,” he tells me. “A lot of the assholes in there”—he gestures to the house—“think all I care about is pussy and bloodshed. But there’s a reason why Lorenzo has me as his second-in-command. There’s also a reason why none of them say it to my face. They’re afraid of me but will still ridicule me behind my back. They’re jealous that I manage to live my best life while surpassing them all in my ability to be a badass motherfucker.”
I drink quietly.
“You’re a badass motherfucker, too, Alessia. Even I wouldn’t be brave enough to publicly question Necktie on his sperm count and refer to him as a fossil to prove a point.”
My laughter starts small but builds steadily until I’m chuckling loud enough that I cover my mouth to stifle the sound.
Leaning into me, Leonardo takes the bottle of whiskey. “Diego is listening. He’s creepy like that. Don’t startle him. He might turn to stone.”
My laughter gets louder.
He raises his eyebrows, mischief dancing on his face. He’s incredibly handsome. A schoolboy charm that works in mysterious ways with his reputation in the underworld. He’s both loved and despised. Some call him immature. Others see his juvenile charisma as his greatest weapon. He’s often underestimated. Looking him in the eye, watching the way his tongue dances over his teeth in flirtation, I don’t know how anyone could be stupid enough to sell his threat short. The man could strip you naked and fuck you while you begged him to slit your throat if he’d just let you come.
He bites his red lips, clearing his throat. “It’s a shame Diego found you first, Sia.” He speaks louder than necessary, the name only Diego uses for me rolling off his tongue in artificial amour. “I’m not sure he can handle you the way you deserve.”
“Sia.” My husband’s voice courses over my body, clawing its way up my spine to make me shiver.
Leonardo winks at me as Diego steps into sight.
