Chapter 10 #2
“It’s almost lunchtime,” he said. “A margherita pizza would do us some good right about now.”
My eyes widened. That wasn’t my father simply inviting me to a work lunch.
That was code for an emergency. Something was going down and he wouldn’t communicate that with me here at the office.
Which highlighted just how big the emergency was, because security at Romano Hospitality had tripled since last year’s car bombing.
The place was sealed tighter than a vault, including the phone jammer that made it impossible for anyone to tap into our calls on both the office landlines and our cell phones.
Not to mention every single part of the building’s interior was soundproof.
If Papa wanted to take this outside, that meant he only wanted to risk me hearing it and no one else.
I chewed my lower lip. Knowing that he only wanted me to hear whatever this was only increased the chance that this was about my detour to Enzo’s apartment.
This was yet another summons. Only this time, it wasn’t going to lead to anything good.
One didn’t get summoned to the family’s oldest pizzeria to hear good news.
“Perfect plan for lunch,” I said, knowing that I could not refuse.
“You have thirty minutes, Valentina,” Papa said, an edge to his tone.
Before I could respond, he hung up, leaving me to my uneasy thoughts.
I instructed my chauffeur to take me to the pizzeria that my father had in mind. My family owned dozens of pizzerias in New York, but this was the one we used to communicate bad news that wouldn’t get intercepted by the phone.
When we arrived and parked across the street from the pizzeria, I got out of the backseat of the car. My chauffeur wasn’t going to be coming with me this time either. Whatever my father wanted to discuss was clearly too sensitive to risk anyone accompanying me, even my personal bodyguard.
I crossed the street toward the aged, rundown building.
The exact kind of dingy place that nobody would look at twice.
As I rounded the building to find the alley at the side, I looked over my shoulder, checking to make sure that I wasn’t being followed.
Satisfied I was in the clear, I maneuvered past the broken wooden crates and cardboard boxes piled high against the pizzeria’s outside wall.
This had never been my idea of a meeting place and I’d rather be anywhere else.
But I couldn’t run away now. I moved toward the other end of the alley, my designer shoes crushing cigarette butts and greasy pizza boxes beneath my heels.
Up ahead was Papa, looking alert with his hands in his jacket pockets.
Except, he wasn’t alone. Cousin Frankie was standing beside him, the pair of them speaking in hushed tones.
When they spotted me approaching, both of them went silent at the same time.
My stomach tightened. I’d assumed that my father would speak to me alone.
But seeing Frankie here just brought up even more questions.
Was this some kind of ambush? Did Papa summon Frankie for a meeting about me going behind his back?
That seemed unlikely. And yet, as I came closer, that didn’t settle the unease spiraling through me.
For all I knew, Frankie had somehow discovered my betrayal and revealed it to Papa.
This would be the perfect setup for them to interrogate me.
Interrogations were traumatic experiences—even the non-violent kind.
The Romanos had a knack for psychological torture of the worst kind, and knowing both Papa and Frankie, they were already trying to put the fear of God into me with this mystery meeting in the alleyway.
This could very easily turn into a good cop, bad cop situation where they cornered me and forced me to confess to what they already knew.
Despite the cloying midday heat rising from the asphalt, I shivered.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
They watched me with suspicion in their eyes, and I felt both trapped and exposed.
That made me fearful. I’d walked into this with almost no protection.
It had never occurred to me to outright fear a summons from my father.
To fear that he might turn against me and lure me into a trap like this.
Bile rose in my throat. For the first time in my life, I wondered if I could trust my own father.
I wondered if my betrayal would mean exile, or worse.
But there was no turning back now. I kept my head up, chin lifted, eyes meeting my father’s steely gaze as I walked up to him.
This wasn’t the moment to waver. Whatever was in store for me, I would meet it head-on.
I was a Romano. I would fight my way through this.
Lie, cheat, and steal my way through this if I had to.
In spite of the cold dread twisting through me, my gaze remained steady as I looked my father directly in the eye. This was no time to show fear.
“Right on time, cousin,” Frankie said, breaking the tense silence.
“As always,” I quipped, before my mouth went dry. Clearing my throat I managed to say, “Papa?”
My father’s eyes narrowed with my verbal acknowledgment. “Good of you to join us, Lena.”
I didn’t react when he used the word us despite how much it stung. So, Papa had been tackling whatever this was with my cousin before me. That meant there was no one in my corner now. It was me against them.
I paused to glance around, making sure that we weren’t being watched or overheard. “What’s this about?”
“We have a problem.” Papa’s jaw clenched. “There’s a traitor in our midst.”