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“I don’t have anyone in my life.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“Tessie told me about you and Bastian.”
“She’s a kid. Eight.”
“And she’s bright, but she’s not my only source of information. I have eyes and ears everywhere, little De Luca.”
I stiffened like a corpse, unmoving as I took in the way he said my last name and what, if anything, his intonation implied.
Swallowing my uncertainty, I asked, “What do your eyes and ears tell you?”
“That there’s something between you and my nephew.”
“He’s not a nice person.”
“Bastian isn’t a nice person, but he’s a good one.”
“We don’t… We’re not…”
“I know.”
I turned to face him. “You know?”
“I know who you are, Miss De Luca.”
It was reflex to reach for my hip, where my weapon would have been holstered if I wasn’t undercover.
Vince’s lips tilted up at the movement, and he gave me a knowing smile. “I wouldn’t be who I am if I didn’t have eyes and ears everywhere. I knew who you were the second you entered this bar. In fact, I knew who you were before that. Not much happens in the syndicate world without my knowing, including the mistress of the De Luca boss giving birth to a baby girl named Ariana De Luca.”
“I-I—” I couldn’t form words as I struggled to accept the information he dished me.
Was this where I begged for my life? Did he want me on my hands and knees, pleading for mercy?
Fear strangled me, and I gasped for breath.
He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Breathe.”
His touch only made it worse, and I coughed, hacking air out of my lungs in my struggle to breathe.
Breathe, Ari. He’s right. Just breathe.
He knew I was a De Luca, but that didn’t mean he knew I was an FBI agent. I could make him see reason about my family ties.
The De Luca family and the Romano family didn’t have a blood feud like the Andretti family did with them.
And blood feuds… they could only be paid in kind.
An Andretti caporegime had died, which meant a Romano caporegime had to die to end the feud. That was Gio, Eli, or Vince. I couldn’t see any one of them dying, so the feud would never end.
Generations and generations of unborn Romano and Andretti children, destined to fight one another until their dying breath.
It was sad and pointless.
“I’ve never…” I swallowed my hesitation, wishing yet again that I had more practice in the field, more practice guarding my fear and emotions. “I’ve never met a De Luca.”
