11. CONVERGE #2
When it comes to the digital front, Eva and Luna are already speaking in shorthand, bouncing ideas off each other like they’ve worked together for years.
Watching them click into sync is almost scary.
Eva is all sass and sarcasm mixed with impressive genius.
And I’m sure Eva’s movie star looks aren’t going unnoticed by my sister.
I can tell Luna is impressed. Eva is a tiny, female version of Enzo.
The genetics in that family are extremely generous.
I sit back, watching the room with curiosity. This isn’t trust. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good having smart, talented people to bounce ideas off. There is this little bubble in my chest, something like…excitement? Hope? A light at the end of the tunnel?
I pride myself on trusting my instincts and right now, this feels good.
I’ll try not to get my hopes up, though. If there is anything I’ve learned, it’s that most people are wildly disappointing.
Including us. Because if anyone ever knew the DNA running through our veins, they’d run the other way.
An hour later, Enzo and Eva guide us to the dining room for lunch.
A sunbeam slices through the antique windows of the Luciano mansion’s very large dining room.
It lands like a spotlight on a table full of criminals and vigilantes, pretending we’re something closer to a brunch club. It’s a surreal kind of sacred.
Luna and Eva sit together, chatting. Without encrypted language or shadowy threads, the conversation doesn’t seem to flow as easily.
Luna is normally nonstop, a bubbly chatter box in most situations, but this time, she’s composed. Watchful. Not uneasy but guarded.
Eva is a few years younger than Luna, in her mid-twenties, but she has the kind of confidence one should have when growing up mafia royalty. She has an ease and grace to her that I believe my sister would find captivating. I’ll have to ask her about it later.
In the corner of the room, Jules is mid-conversation with Enzo and Niko, explaining something I don’t need to hear to understand. Her gestures are precise, competent, grounded. The men listen more than they speak. They’re asking intentional questions, taking her in.
Jules has always been like this—the quiet authority in the room. I’m glad they see it, too.
Hudson returns from the kitchen and sits beside me like it’s always been his place.
“Different kind of meeting than you and I are used to,” he says with a wink.
“Jane and John had more fun,” I tease.
“Maybe, but at least now we are done pretending.”
I glance at him. “Are we?”
“I am. You’re harder to read now, but far more interesting.”
“I was never easy to read.”
“Definitely not at cards, but in the bedroom?”
My cheeks warm. “Sad those days are over?”
“Are they?” His puppy dog eyes contain a hint of pleading that somehow isn’t pathetic, but rather endearing.
“Obviously.”
“Agree to disagree.”
I laugh before I can stop myself and Hudson cracks a wide smile.
Enzo approaches the table and takes the seat across from us.
“Gotta say,” Hudson starts with a smirk, turning toward Enzo, “Pippa suits you much better than Jane.”
I arch my brow. “Please. I much prefer John to Hudson.”
Enzo snorts. “Straight to the jugular.”
Hudson mock clutches his chest. “You wound me.”
Enzo leans forward, arms crossed, shifting the mood. “Making sure this”—he points between Hudson and me—“isn't going to be a problem.”
I sit back in my chair, squaring my shoulders. “What exactly would this be?”
“You two, your history,” he says flatly. “We’ve got a delicate alliance on the line. We don’t have the luxury of making decisions based on how we feel.” He raises his eyebrows at me as he uses my exact words from the other night.
Poor guy, he really has no idea how to play this game.
Hudson is clearly amused. “That so? Isn’t it your complicated feelings that led to this delicate alliance?”
I stare directly at Enzo as I say, “It’s giving jealous, isn’t it, Hudson? I think Enzo is jealous.”
Hudson’s grin stretches. “You may be right about that, Pippa, but what Enzo doesn’t realize is he doesn’t need to be jealous, does he?”
“No, he doesn’t. Enzo, you’re welcome to join us any time.”
And just like that, Enzo’s cheeks brighten to a shade just shy of the color of my hair. His eyes dart between Hudson and me.
“Johnny and I here have shared many times before… And we like it…a lot.”
Enzo blinks and licks his lips. Then he clears his throat like he’s searching for words.
The chef enters from the kitchen to serve the food and Enzo is saved.
Did I just tell Hudson our hook ups were over? Yes. Did Enzo’s arrival bring my confrontational, teasing side out? Also yes. I won’t dissect that.
Jules joins the table.
Niko leaves the room.
Chef Marco explains what he’s prepared. Then, he pours us each a glass of wine before returning to the kitchen.
The conversation is easy as we eat—fun, even.
Eva is the life of the party, cracking jokes, keeping us entertained with stories of their childhood or their work.
Hudson and Enzo often jump in to “correct” her version of events.
Hudson and Luna share a story or two about working together over the years.
Luna told me earlier she is still battling how she feels about the Hudson reveal.
I know she always considered him a friend at work.
Luna tends to turn inward in moments like this; she can be brutally hard on herself.
Like it’s a personal failure not to have seen it coming.
Her scars from our past aren’t as physical as mine, but I don’t think she’s ever forgiven herself for not comprehending the dark truth back at Maribel Island.
Her obsessive attention to detail as a hacker ensures she never misses the obvious again.
Jules and I add an anecdote here or there to the conversation throughout lunch. We never reveal anything too personal but always find common ground—more than I would have expected, if I’m being honest.
But Enzo, Hudson, and Eva all spend their days playing various roles, too, so they just get it. It’s…nice.
Hudson, Enzo, and I sneak glances at each other throughout the meal, though we all pretend we aren’t.
I notice Enzo’s attention keeps drifting, and not always back to me. I notice when it finds Hudson. I wonder if he’s even aware how easily it settles there.
By the time dessert is served, I find myself wondering if Hudson and his best friend have ever crossed that line. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Enzo’s heated gazes after our joke weren’t directed at me alone.