THIRTY-THREE #3
‘What?’ he asked flatly. Not a question – a threat dressed as one. A dare.
Vinnie didn’t respond at first. Just wiped absolutely nothing from his chin, as if he needed something to do with the rage humming through him.
He hadn’t said anything. Cain’s eyes narrowed at him.
I could count the beats of my heart until—
‘This won’t be a problem.’ Cain’s voice was too low to make out, but I heard it anyway.
Vinnie tipped his gaze towards me, but lowered it right after.
‘No. It won’t,’ he murmured into his chin, and I felt a sudden urge to tell Cain the truth – that it wasn’t about us working together. But then… Vinnie didn’t know. He didn’t understand what Cain was to me. What I was, hopefully, to him.
The waiter arrived with the menus before I was able to open my mouth.
Timing – always the killer of truths.
As he began reciting specials, then the wine menu, Genevieve returned, launching into a breathy conversation about the Viking novel. Her voice filled the void with polite chatter, and I realised I wasn’t going to be able to offer anyone any answers. Not here. Not now.
Dinner dragged like a funeral procession.
Food came. Food cooled and was cleared.
The reporter asked question after question. Cain and I answered like we were under a spell. Pretending.
But Vinnie… Vinnie barely touched his meal. He scraped his fork across the porcelain or circled his fingertip along the rim of his glass as if he were trying to remember something he rather wouldn’t.
And the more I watched him – how quiet he’d gone, how far away he seemed – the more I wondered what the hell I’d broken.
When my purse vibrated, it felt like salvation.
Until I fished out the phone and saw the name flashing on the screen.
Leo.
Excusing myself from the table, threading my way towards the terrace, I cursed under my breath.
I hadn’t called my brothers. Not once since last night. Uncle Alessio had definitely been in touch with them, and God only knew what kind of story he’d given them.
The line connected with a sharp beep.
‘Do you own a fucking phone?’ Leo snarled immediately.
I flinched, holding the speaker slightly away from my ear. ‘Hey, Leo… yeah. Sorry. It’s been a weird day. I’m just finishing up an interview.’
‘An interview?’ His voice climbed. ‘After everything?’
I sighed, already dreading the rest of the conversation. ‘Did Zio—’
‘You bet your skinny ass he did. Where’s that piece of shit now?’
‘I don’t know. Cain beat him up and he left.’
Silence. Not a single breath on the other end.
My heart skipped.
‘Who the fuck is Cain?’
I sucked in a breath when it hit me – that was the first time I’d said his name to any of my brothers.
Silence yawned. Not even Leo’s usual background chaos.
And Cain was a long story I had neither the time nor energy to explain. ‘Someone I’m seeing.’
Another pause.
Apparently, Cain battering Travis bought him a few grace points, because Leo didn’t curse right away. ‘I want his name, date and place of birth.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘I’ll get it the hard way.’
‘Leo…’
‘You’re not known for good choices, Birdie.’
I winced.
It wasn’t wrong. Just badly timed.
When I didn’t respond, he clicked his tongue, like always when he was losing a battle. ‘Matt’s already landed in Rome. Zio’s picking him up.’
I nearly dropped my phone.
‘What?’ My stomach twisted. Matteo meant business – and I was his business now. He was like a pitbull when he bit down on something.
‘You’re lucky it’s him and not Ma. She’s cleaning her Glock in the kitchen—what?’ A muffled voice in the background. ‘No, she’s fine. Just stupid, as usual.’
‘Oh fuck you, Leo.’
‘This is not the time for kind wishes,’ he muttered. And then I heard a crunch. He was eating.
Of course he was eating.
Then softer, ‘Thank you, Ma. That’s delicious.’
My heart pinched. ‘Tell her I love her.’
There was a hard swallow – probably from stuffing in way too much food, like always. I could practically see it – Ma’ reaching over, scolding him with a dishtowel. She’d pried stuff out of his mouth more times than I could count when we were little.
‘She says she loves you but not enough to come home.’
‘Leo… I swear to fucking—’
‘Yeah, yeah. Find Matt before he finds you. He isn’t happy.’
And just like that, he hung up on me.
Exhaling into silence, I slipped the phone back into my purse.
The terrace felt too still, too wide, its shadows long and heavy in the dying light. My hands braced against the railing as I stared over the dusky outline of the city below, welcoming the cooling air.
Then I felt it.
That impossible, unmistakable tension of being watched.
I lifted my chin.
Across the narrow courtyard, beyond the ironwork fencing, a figure stood in the dark.
Unmoving. It bled into the night – only the faintest outline of broad shoulders and a stillness that seemingly didn’t belong to anyone human.
There wasn’t a single motion on him until the cigarette lifted to his mouth. A drag. A pause.
And then—
The orange glow flared to life, casting a brief but damning halo across his features.
That mouth. That scar above his brow.
The eyes…
Travis.