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My panties get just a bit wet thinking about it.
Marco opens the passenger door, slamming it loud, and when his eyes meet mine, he shakes his head.
That seems to be Marco’s go-to move when he doesn’t know what to do with me.
They walk up to us and Dante and Tino do that dumb man handshake thing while Marco simply tips his chin up, eyes on the house.
“You stay here,” Dante says to Tino then points at the big house with no neighbors. “Make sure he doesn’t kill her. Also make sure Paulie doesn’t get dragged in just yet. We’ll have a family meeting on Monday.” Tino nods. “You got his phone?” he asks, and I smile.
“I got it!” I say with a proud wave of the phone I grabbed from the back seat. Slowly, Dante turns to me and then just shakes his head as I smile.
“Got it, Boss man.” I think that wording is interesting, one of Paulie’s men calling Dante Boss man. Seems I won’t have to do any additional work on Tino. “You really think he’d do that? Paulie? Fuck a made man’s wife?”
Dante sighs and runs his hand through his hair.
When he pulled up with Marco, the belly flutter was because for the first time, he looked like a boss. He looked like the rightful heir in all black, coming to clean up a mess one of his men made, his second walking right behind him. The air of it, the appeal of it has heat pooling in my belly.
My man.
The king to my queen.
Fuck, I can’t wait to rule with him.
And now, he’s playing into the dutifully disappointed uncle.
“Paulie is . . . Paulie. He thinks for himself. Carmine thinks it will change, that when he’s in charge, he’ll . . . settle.”
He doesn’t even add a but, not leaving room for interpretation that he disagrees. Instead, he methodically puts any disapproval or disbelief directly on Camine’s decision-making.
My panties get just a bit wetter as I watch him in action.
I’ve been doing my work on the men, gaining their trust or destroying their trust in Paulie, but Dante has been doing his job, continuing to look like the solid, reliable option for the family.
“So I guess this ends our party, “ I say, looking to Candy with a very fake sad face.
“Ah, shit, I’m sorry, Lilah,” Tino says, running his hand in his hair. “I feel bad. I know you were excited for tonight.”
“It’s okay, Tino. I feel bad for all of this,” I say, cringing, waving my hand at the house where glass just shattered—a vase or a glass or something. Dante tips his chin to Jason, who showed up without my noticing, and Jason walks to the house, presumable to make sure no one is near death.
“It was bound to happen. No way you could have known.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll take over Lilah duty,” Dante says, and my eyes go wide.
“What?”
“You finish your bachelorette. Marco and I will escort you around. Your girls are already at the next stop, yeah?” My phone has been blowing up with “Where are you?” texts for an hour.
I nod.
“All good. We’ll handle it,” he says. And then in five minutes, we’re all in the car, Dante and Marco driving us to our next stop.
And suddenly, the night looks a whole lot brighter.
TWENTY-SIX
-Lilah-
By eleven, I’m drunk and not the fake drunk I was when Tino and Dario were driving me around.
