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“You might still have a seat at the Crown and Black boardroom table…” Alistair hisses.
“Alargeseat!” Charles snaps.
“But don’t think for a second we don’t know that your empire is burning at the edges,” Alistair continues. “You’re not a young man anymore, Charles. You’ve lost friends and alliances. Burned bridges.”
Oh, goody. I’m not the only one who’s been paying attention.
“So you want to hitch your boat to Vito Barone because your little kingdom is in trouble? Fine,” Gabriel mutters. He shoots me a very meaningful, heavy look, before turning back to his grandfather. “But if you want to do that, Maeve moves in here.”
And here I thought dinner might get boring.
Charles barks a laugh, turning to me. “Tell Vito I’ll be in touch for the two of us to?—”
“Their condition applies,” I say, turning to nod my chin at Tempest’s brothers. “Or there is no deal with Vito.”
Charles stares at me, a vein in his temple pulsing. “Excuse me?!”
“I’m sure you heard me. Maeve moves in here, or else there’s no deal.”
Charles sputters and fumes. “You don’t have the authority to speak for Vito?—”
“Today, I do.”
The living room is pin drop silent for a second. Charles glares at me, then his grandsons.
“Fine,” he finally snaps. “Fine.”
After he strides away, I glance at Gabriel and Alistair. None of us says anything for a moment, but Gabriel nods slightly with his chin.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to send you both thank you notes for your generous wedding gifts.”
Alistair rolls his eyes. “Eat shit, Dante. I didn’t get you anything. Neither of us did.”
I smile. “Well, I’m sure we could head down to that famous Black family wine cellar and find something to remedy?—”
“What the fuckisall of this, Dante?” Alistair breaks in. “I mean fucking seriously, what the hell is this dinner you were so desperate for all about? You wanted us to watch you play diplomat and conduct mafia fucking business inour father’s house? Are you shitting me?”
I exhale slowly. “This isn’t about me.”
It’s about Tempest. And I hate that I can’t tell them why this is so important to her. That I want to give her at leastsomesemblance of a family with their differences and their clashing pasts put to rest.
“Look, we’re family now?—”
Gabriel glares at me and Alistair laughs coldly. “Don’t remind me.”
“And it would mean a lot to your sister if the three of us put the weapons down?—”
“Don’t talk about Tempest as if you fucking know her,” Alistair snarls.
“She’s mywife, Alistair.”
“Careful, Dante,” he snarls, his teeth bared. “There’s already enough evidence with one of my sisters that I could put you in a hole in the ground. Touch the other one and I’ll?—”
“Speakingof evidence,” I barrel on, “and despite the fact that I did not receive a wedding present from either you, I’d like to gift both ofyousomething. C’mon, ask me what it is.”
Silence.
“What,” Gabriel finally spits. “What is it, Dante?”
