Chapter 18 Tommy
Tommy
The Demonio estate is wrapped in a thick fog, all stone and shadow and quiet menace.
From the window of my father’s office, I focus on the puffs of exhaust from the black Lincoln Town Car warming the asphalt.
Inside, the air feels like it’s holding its breath, and sunlight slices through the tall windows, catching on the gold thread in the burgundy brocade curtains and the polished wood surface of my father’s desk.
My father, Aurelio, sits behind his desk, holding court as usual, a half smile playing on his face as his gaze shifts between me and Lorenzo Marino.
The tension is palpable and thick. You can practically taste it when you breathe.
He seems to be enjoying it.
Lorenzo, for his part, is wearing an immaculate suit as usual, and I wonder if he gets them made at the same place that Giovanna had the suit made for me.
Where I first kissed her. Where I first sunk my finger inside her—
“So. You are wondering why you are here, no.” Aurelio is looking at Lorenzo.
I know why I’m here: my father told me to be his backup.
Just in case. He likes me to be on standby in the event that things go awry.
Always me. Exposure to any and all potential complications is part of my training, he says.
He wants me to be his blade, the tool he wields to carve his place in the New York underworld.
I’m good at it. I’m just bored with it.
“I’m sure you’ll make your intentions clear when you’re ready,” Lorenzo says easily, but his jaw is clenched, and I can see the vein jumping in the side of his throat.
Aurelio gives him a quick nod, the smug expression falling off his face when Lorenzo doesn’t take the bait.
Not upset, not arguing, not nervous or kowtowing.
Vin says Aurelio takes pleasure in other people’s discomfort.
I’ve seen nothing that would make me disagree with that assertion.
“It has been three days since you have been appointed CEO of Luminous & Co, yet I have seen no movement on Demonio funds.” He steeples his fingers and narrows his eyes shrewdly at Lorenzo, waiting for his response.
Lorenzo’s brow furrows slightly before returning to his impenetrable expression.
“My own businesses have required my attention.”
My father chuckles thinly veiled irritation flickering across his face.
It’s a low, indulgent sound that makes my skin itch.
“You understand that Demonio business takes first. Is that how you say it, Tommaso?”
“It takes precedence, yes,” I confirm.
My phone buzzes, and I glance at it briefly: a text from Giovanna.
My father’s gone! Come help me
move before he gets back!
She was waiting for her father to be out of the house so I can help her move her things back to her place in the Village without having to deal with him.
What she doesn’t know is that I’m here with him now.
And that I have no intention of moving her things anywhere but to my place at Dragovari Tower.
Aurelio scowls at me, and I slide my phone into my back pocket.
“Do you agree that Lorenzo should put Demonio business first, Tommaso?”
The question hangs in the air like a noose, the weight of both men’s stares pulling at me from either direction.
Gi’s words from the other day ring in my ears, how power has less to do with what you want than what you have to lose.
Who’s bluffing. Who’s bleeding under the surface.
I feel that adage applies to this conversation, but I don’t know how and I don’t want to.
All I know is what I want: Giovanna. As if she can hear my thoughts, my phone buzzes again, likely another text from her.
Not being able to answer her feels like something sharp is lodged between my ribs.
“Whatever the two of you decide, I’ll support.
”
Lorenzo clears his throat. “Gentlemen, I explained to you previously that I am already very busy with my own businesses, and my schedule really won’t allow me to take on any new commitments at the moment.
Perhaps there is someone else suited to the job.
”
“Nonsense. You will start immediately. We have to make sure our girl is taken care of, do we not?”
Aurelio chuckles and stares down Lorenzo whose face flushes with rage as he grips the chair arms so tight that his knuckles turn white.
I look between the two of them surreptitiously, trying to figure out what is going on.
Is Giovanna “our girl”? It doesn’t feel appropriate to ask, so I say nothing, hoping that one of them will enlighten me.
But neither does.
When Lorenzo doesn’t respond, Aurelio flicks his fingers in the direction of the door, dismissing us both.
“Lorenzo, you will begin now. Tommaso, escort him to the chopper.”
Lorenzo stands and buttons his suit jacket, swinging his overcoat over his arm.
He has no interest in staying any longer than he has to, and I have to lengthen my stride to catch up with him.
Outside, the wind has picked up, the temperatures icy.
It’s not really an issue for me, but I pull my hood up over my head to keep the wind out of my ears.
Extreme temperatures, like pain, have minimal effect unless extreme, and even then, I don’t hate it.
Lorenzo, on the other hand, pulls up his collar against the wind and blows into his hands uncomfortably as we get into the golf cart driven by one of my father’s guards.
The olive trees line the gravel drive, the estate stretching wide like a fortress around us.
“I heard about the party,” Lorenzo says.
“Your little disagreement with Antonio Abbiati.”
I keep my eyes trained forward.
“He was inappropriate with Giovanna, sir.”
“And do you make a habit of following your attempts to defend every woman’s honor by flinging her over your shoulder and spanking her?
Or is my daughter special?”
Interesting.
I didn’t realize anyone saw that. Not that I care.
I’d fuck her in front of a stadium full of people that included her father and everyone we know.
When I’m with her, all I see is her. It’s when she’s with anyone else that I want to set any man who looks at her on fire.
“She is special, sir. And he put his hands on her. That won’t be tolerated.
”
We pull up to the end of the path leading to the chopper, and he pauses before getting out of the golf cart.
“You don’t think it’s appropriate for a young man to respond with anger when his date is molested in a bathroom by a thug?
”
I level him with a hard stare. “If you’re referring to what I think you are, your characterization of events isn’t accurate.
”
“Maybe. Maybe not. What I’m telling you,” Lorenzo says, his voice unmistakably final.
“Is that Giovanna is young. She’s passionate.
She doesn’t always know what’s best for her.
And it’s my job to protect her from men who may hurt her.
And from herself.”
I ball my fists and work hard to turn on the ‘pleasant smile’ Gi recommended.
It doesn’t work. As long as I’ve known Giovanna, her father has taken very little interest in her life, but for some reason, he’s been increasingly invested in who she spreads her legs for.
And that is my business, and my business alone.
“If you’re implying that I’d harm her—”
“I’m saying you already have,” Lorenzo snaps, cutting me off.
“Even if you don’t see it yet. She was meant for more than this,” he gestures to the sprawling estate behind us, “more than this world. More than you. But you already know that, don’t you?
”
I do know that. I’ve always seen it. The way she walks into a room and changes the air.
The light in her when she talks about things that don’t belong to this world of blood and corruption.
She has started to teach me how to show up in a world that isn’t defined by its shadows, but what have I given her in return?
Embarrassment in front of her friends and family?
The promise of a life in the gutter, no matter how much money I make to provide for her?
My phone buzzes again, and I pull it out of my pocket.
Giovanna. I tap the text thread to open it and scan a string of flirty, sexually graphic texts ending with “Where are you?”
I don’t answer, and slide the phone back in my pocket, my chest hollow.
Lorenzo continues. “I know you see the potential in her, the great things she can do in the world if she isn’t weighed down by…
well, to be blunt, you. Give her the chance to do those things.
If you care about her at all, Tommy, you’ll let her go.
”
My vision blurs as I watch him turn and walk toward the chopper, the pilot turning on the engine, the rotor and blades roaring to life.
All the ways I could dismantle him flip through my head like pages of a book: throw him into the helicopter rotor blades, knock him out and drown him, carve him up and let him bleed out slowly.
But it wouldn’t change the fact that he’s right.