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He waves my concern away, still clinging to the notion of his superiority. “Power and money speak no matter where you are. The cameras will remain off for another ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir. I must say, I knew nothing of any issue with this Mathias person. This is new information.”
“What does Lorenzo know?” he inquires, eyes narrowing as he slowly smirks. “Does he share?”
I flex my toes in my shoes, so he can’t see me bristle at his carefully worded question. Apparently, Juan made more than one play during his visit. But this is the opening I need, the moment I can set my plan into motion.
“Lorenzo and I work closely together on all family matters. If he knew of Mathias, I would too.”
“Does he know what you’ve been doing?”
“Forgive me,” I murmur, shaking my head. “But I don’t understand your question.”
Senior sighs as if I’m being dense. “Juan’s visits are enlightening. He’s a well-versed informant who brings me too much information on your actions, but I find I need to know these things, since I can’t watch you myself.”
“Of course he is,” I say, keeping my tone agreeable. “Juan is knowledgeable in many aspects—”
“Why haven’t you and Lorenzo married?” he interrupts. “I’ve given you too much time to get comfortable with each other, a luxury none of our family had with their wives. Why do you continue to disrespect me?”
Luxury and disrespect? I nearly laugh at him. He was too busy trying to unsuccessfully kill his brother to bother with Lory and me. And we made it our business to avoid him when we could.
He’s earned the disrespect, though I haven’t shown it to him yet.
“We’ve filled our time with the turf war and—”
“Fucking other people?”
“Occasionally, we dabble with outsiders,” I remark without missing a beat. “Lorenzo and I find that our tastes in the bedroom are still similar after all these years.”
His question doesn’t shock me. Predictably, he couldn’t hold his tongue until there was a better moment to use his information. He wants everyone to know that he knows everything… But I avoid giving him a straight answer to anger him. To force his hand.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he snarls, leaning his chest over the table.
“Yes, sir,” I reply, my tone light and composed. “We do fuck other people. We also—”
My cheek burns as he strikes me, though I show him no reaction. Not even a stunned blink of my eyelids, which pisses him off. It’s another mark of disrespect in his mind. But as the years have gone on, his habits and tics have become so glaringly obvious that I expected the slap before he knew he would do it.
This is the beginning of the end.
Today is the day I establish the last score between us, that final line in the sand I have to cross.
“Though we also fuck each other just as often,” I finish.
“I expected more from you.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
Senior scoffs, straightening his posture to appear more commanding. “You will marry Lorenzo before the month is up, or I will—”
“No.”
“Mind yourself,” he growls.
“No,” I repeat. “Remember where you are and where I am. One of us walks free, while the other rots in a cell for the rest of his brief life. This will be the last amicable visit you receive from me. Next time, I will bring the reaper with me.”
His boisterous laughter echoes around us. “You? Your father and the Ghost have let you get away with too much. I will not tolerate—”
“Then don’t,” I state, raising my voice over his. “Just shut the fuck up and listen. You can do that, right?”
