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As soon as we entered my office, Gio locked the door. Never a good sign. Fuck me. I was too buzzed for a serious conversation right now.
I didn’t normally turn to alcohol to chase my demons—not even after Gio had betrayed my trust eight years ago—but I wasn't scheduled for work today and Asher, who I would usually be hanging out with right now, had a fiancée who monopolized most of his time.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Lucy like a sister, but times like this reminded me of just how lonely I was.
Loneliness your dad is responsible for, the unforgiving part of my brain never let me forget. Loneliness Everett probably feels, too.
I swallowed and sat down at my desk, not bothering to offer a seat up to Gio. He’d take it if he wanted to.
That was the type of men we were. Takers.
We only gave when it came to the family, and even then, the number of people who shared the Romano name or—like Asher, Lucy, and our current fixer Niccolaio—had worked their way into the heart of this family was slim.
“We need to talk business.”
“My business or yours?”
One of his cufflinks fell to the floor. He kicked it under my desk, removed the remaining one, and tossed it in the trash like it hadn’t cost a month’s worth of rent in Greenwich.
“Ours.”
Translation: Romano business.
Translation of translation: nothing I cared to delve into.
I bit back a curse.
I went to L’Oscurità to get away from the mafia business, not to have Gio throw it in my face every chance he got.
At any given moment, at least a dozen mafia contacts or members wined and dined inside the building, but the actual revenue L’Oscurità made was a hundred percent legitimate.
Gio ignored my irritation. “Your Uncle Frankie’s caught wind of a rat in our midst.”
I laughed away my disbelief. “No kidding? You see anyone suicidal lately?”
“This isn’t a joke. Our man in the bureau confirmed this.”
And our FBI informants never made mistakes.
“Shit.” The curse hissed past my lips, and rightfully so. By nature, a delicate ecosystem tethered the family business together, and even the slightest tremors could disrupt it. “Why tell me this?”
Exterminating rats fell within the jurisdiction of the head of enforcement for the Romano family. Uncle Vince. My favorite uncle. The most compassionate Romano.
Go figure he’d have my least favorite job.
“Vince has narrowed it down to a list of four possible people. We’ve got tails on three of the four, but we need you on the last.”
I gestured around the bare room. No shelves. Just a desk and chairs.
“I’ve got a business to run.”
“He’s here. Works for you, Bastian.”
I knew Gio hadn’t meant it as an insult, but I took it as one anyway. “Are you telling me I hired a rat?”
Each and every employee here had undergone a careful vetting process. I held a grudge against Gio, but I’d never take it out on Asher and the rest of my family or risk their lives.
Then again, you hired that incompetent bartender, the asshole in me reminded.
