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We move toward the outdoor balcony.
Lorenzo, Vincent, and Leonardo sit at the sprawling table set up for lunch. They stand when we appear. They shake my hand, kiss my cheek in greeting, and congratulate me again on my nuptials.
Narciso, Amadeo, and Salvatore kiss my cheeks silently and sit back down. Four of Salvatore’s high-ranking members are also in attendance. Two greet me warmly. The others merely dip their chin.
Fuckers.
Their disrespect doesn’t go unnoticed by my husband, who squeezes my hand involuntarily with anger. I squeeze back, and he settles, his gaze not moving from the assholes who I wish would hurry up and die.
Two men I don’t recognize stand as I approach them.
“You must be Dominic Rein.” I shake the hand of the older man. “And Rocco Shay.” I do the same to the younger man, who is comparable to my brother’s height but is easily another half of Salvatore in shoulder width, with muscles that envelop every inch of his body.
“Pleasure to meet you, Alessia. This is one of our men.” He points at a man standing by the balcony door. “Frank Tivoli.”
I dip my chin in greeting.
Diego introduces himself without a quandary.
“I apologize for our tardiness.”
Freddie, one of the outfit members I’d prefer to see cold and tucked into a wooden box, snorts loud enough for everyone to hear.
“What was that, Freddie?”
He smiles boorishly at me. “Oh, nothing. None of us expected any less. You’re a newlywed. Women in their thirties are said to be wildcats, so you probably cleaned the young guy out.” He laughs loudly at his own joke, but everyone else remains quiet.
“Talk about my wife like that again, and I’ll gut you like the pig you are.”
Freddie’s face turns red with anger.
“Am I understood?”
“Alessia has no problem with our jokes. Isn’t that right,boss?”
They call me boss as a sign of disrespect, but I’ve learned to ignore it.
I move to speak, but Diego’s voice breaks through the silence before I can open my mouth.
“Let me be clear,Freddie.Alessia exists to you in two separate entities. One, as your consigliera. If you question the family or her performance as Salvatore’strustedadviser, I have no need to be heard or seen because her capabilities are unmatched. I’ve seen firsthand what she does to men threatening her position, and it involves a lot of blood.” He grins. “But she also exists to you as my wife. If you speaktoher orabouther in a way that I deem offensive or even slightly inappropriate, I won’t hesitate to kill you. Don’t look at Salvatore,” he bites out as Freddie’s head turns in my brother’s direction, pulling Freddie’s attention back to him. “The fact that he hasn’t intervened at any point during this exchange tells you all you need to know, and that is, he won’t bat a single eyelid if I shoot you right now.”
Lifting his chin, Freddie scowls at my husband.
“Now, apologize to my wife for attempting to humiliate her. No matter how piss-poor the effort was,” he adds as an afterthought.
“Sorry,” he mumbles.
“Louder,” my brother quips.
“Sorry,” Freddie says louder.
“Not a problem.” I smile serenely. “Shall we get started?”
Salvatore’s housekeeper serves us lunch prepared by his in-house chef, and small talk hums across the table as we eat.
Rocco talks openly about his wife and kids, the intimidating giant melting away as the family side of him shines through. He has my full attention as we discuss Chicago and Seattle and his move into the suburbs years ago to raise his five kids. Dominic offers commentary as his son-in-law talks but remains relatively silent unless spoken to directly. Conversation flows among everyone except Diego and Freddie, who choose to stare at one another with murder in their eyes. The cross around Diego’s neck is held in his grasp, and he slides it along the dark chain in long and measured movements.
Freddie’s anger builds with every smooth move of Diego’s necklace, and it doesn’t go unnoticed across the table.
