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"Or," Primo reluctantly continues, "they proposed a compromise."
"Which is?" I growl, my patience wearing thin.
"They want one of us brothers to marry the daughter of the head of the Westies." Primo's words hit me like a ton of bricks. "They feel it would give them legitimacy they could leverage and that's valuable to them."
"Are you kidding me? When were you planning on telling me this?" I demand, my anger flaring.
"Look, Teddy," Primo says defensively, "it never really seemed like an option, you know? That's why we tried to take out key members of their operation, like Father Murphy."
I sigh. "I should have known about this, Primo. If I'm gonna lead, I need to know what's going on."
"Teddy, you've never really embraced being the leader," Primo counters, his tone laced with frustration.
"Maybe not, but we're here now, aren't we?" I snap back. The cold floor beneath my feet seems to mirror the chill growing between us. "Speaking of which," I continue, "Carmine's been asking questions about the Irish. It's making me uncomfortable."
"Teddy," Primo replies, sounding more sympathetic now, "he's probably just trying to keep himself occupied since his father died. He doesn't want to deal with the grief."
"Huh?" I say to him. "You're the one that made me anxious about him in the first place. And now you're saying what I was saying all along!"
"I guess I thought about what you said," Primo tries to explain. "Just keep an eye on him, okay?" Primo suggests, his lack of concern evident in his voice.
"Sure," I agree halfheartedly, my mind racing with the possibilities of what could go wrong.
"Are you gonna be at the fundraiser?" I ask, trying to shift the focus of our conversation.
"Sorry, Teddy. I can't," Primo says, his voice weighed down with regret. "Isabella's close to going into labor, and I promised her I wouldn't have anything to do with mob business once she delivered."
"Really?" I spit out, anger flaring in my chest. "You promised Giovanni you'd help him with the family, and now you're not gonna help me?"
"Teddy, I'm sorry. I truly am. I'm doing everything I can for as long as I can. But I don't have a choice," he replies, sounding genuinely apologetic.
"Whatever." I roll my eyes, irritation simmering beneath my skin. The cold marble floor of the mansion seems to seep through the soles of my shoes, sending shivers up my spine.
"Take care, brother. And good luck with everything," Primo says before hanging up.
"Thanks for nothing," I mutter to myself, feeling abandoned and more anxious than ever. Darkness creeps in from the corners of the room as if to swallow me whole. This anxiety is new to me – and I hate it. I wish I had someone I could trust to talk to about all this shit. Someone who wouldn't turn their back on me when things got tough.
As if on cue, my phone buzzes with a new notification.
I stare at the sender in disbelief a number of times. Finally, I open it.
It's a text message from Constantino.
Let’s talk.
A part of me feels relieved, but another part tenses, knowing that talking to him can be like playing with fire. His volatile nature and ambition often put us at odds, but despite that, there's always been something that keeps us connected – a deep bond that can't be easily broken.
Alright. Let’s talk.
I take a deep breath and brace myself for whatever storm may come.
This world I've been thrust into is cold and unforgiving, but it's the only one I've got. And if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that I'll need every ally I can find if I'm gonna survive it.
ChapterTwenty-Three
A knock on my bedroom door shatters the silence, pulling me back to reality. I open it, and there's Teddy, his blond hair catching the dim light in the hallway. He looks a little nervous, a little bashful.
"Hey, can I come in?" he asks, his blue eyes searching mine.
