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But instead, I smile as well, knowing Teresa is on my side.
“The cop you were working with? Setting up that prostitution ring, trying to sell the girls out of the club? Yeah, he seemed real willing to spill about all of your secrets as soon as I got some bourbon in him and showed him some leg. Your whole plan, names, dates, process—all on a recording.”
The room is silent as I take that in, as Paulie tries to understand what she just said.
“How—”
“Because you’re messy. Your ego gets in the way; you pick shitty partners. Honestly, Paulie, you can’t even clock a shitty fucking PI. The PI I hired to track you, to catch you getting fucking messy? He said he barely had to hide himself when he was on your tail. You’re so wrapped up in your fucking god complex that you don’t see reality. That’s where your uncle wins, you know. He understands his weaknesses. It’s what got your grandfather killed, what got your father in prison for life.”
“Are you saying you did those, too?”
“Not all of them,” she says with a smile.
“I should—”
“You should what, Paulie?” a new voice asks, and that one I know better than the back of my hand.
Dante.
My love.
All heads turn to look at him, but he only has eyes for me.
How much he heard, I don’t know, but he doesn’t hide us.
Not anymore.
Instead, he walks right to me, putting an arm around my waist, tugging me in front of him as he presses a kiss to my hair.
“The game is over. You’re never going to rule this family, Paulie.”
“We’ll see what the men sa—”
“I already spoke with all of them. There was a meeting,” Dante says, and I see it then.
The flicker.
Whether it’s panic or shock or indignance or something else all together, I’m not sure, but it’s there and he wanted to hide it but failed.
“A meeting?”
“There was a meeting the night after Carmine died.”
“And where was I?”
“Not invited?” I ask, a small smile in my voice. The room goes cold before Dante finishes.
“You weren’t there, but we were, and Lilah and I were sworn in with the men. Unanimous decision. Ask any of them.”
Silence takes over the kitchen again as Paulie stares at his uncle, trying to decode his words, not understanding their meaning, but pride stopping him from asking.
I, of course, can’t resist a quick little push.
“Go ahead, Paulie. Ask,” I say with a little chuckle.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about how Lilah and myself are Don and Donna of the Carluccio family together. It was decided and sealed into the books three nights ago.
