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Giovanni closed his eyes. “Why does everyone want to talk about sex in my office?”
Antonio’s smile became easier. “You and Nera fucking on the desk isn’t exactly talking, Gio. It’s doing.”
His brother flushed. “You saw that?”
Antonio hadn’t, but now he wanted to laugh. “Nera was the instigator, I’m sure.” It was cute how Giovanni’s blush climbed to his ears. “She’s good for you,” he murmured, knowing it was true.
Giovanni had experienced very little happiness in this life. Between the Mafia and their father constantly abusing him and telling him he wasn’t enough, Antonio’s initial envy toward his brother had become pity.
Then Antonio’s mother had decided to kill the son that wasn’t hers, and his pity had turned to guilt.
He studied his brother. He loved the hell out of him now, but he’d initially begun to help him out of that guilt. Instead of killing his brother like she’d asked, Antonio had chosen to kill his mother. They never talked about it, but then Giovanni never needed to talk.
Antonio wondered if his brother even told his wife how much he loved her.
Nera was a blessing. The child they’d made would be too.
“We’ll keep them safe,” he promised Giovanni, the person who meant the most to him in this world.
Giovanni gave a slow nod. “We will.” Then he tilted his head in question.
“No, I’ve heard nothing new, and I doubt any of the families will turn violent when we’re all together.” He rattled off a few of the things he was keeping tabs on. Nothing of grave importance, it was just good to keep ahead of things. His mind flashed to Vespa, and his smile fell. “I know the Coronellas asked to take care of the Luccheses themselves.”
Giovanni nodded.
“The Irish are on hold because of them, too, but we weren’t really interested.” He frowned, thinking about the attack on the Coronellas in broad daylight. That had been the Albanians, but there was a thread linking it to the Luccheses. Antonio enjoyed pulling on threads. “It’s the Lucchese family I’m most worried about. I might ask your assassin to keep an eye on them.”
“His name is Luka, Antonio,” Giovanni reminded him with a sigh.
“I know his name.”
“When are you going to forgive him?”
“Never.” Luka had once attempted to kill Giovanni. That he chose not to didn’t make up for the attempt. “We’ve done more for him over the years than he’s done for us.”
“You’re always keeping score,” Giovanni murmured. “Does that mean I have a deficit?” His blue eyes reminded Antonio of their father when they settled on him like that.
“Of course not,” Antonio murmured. He’d been told to kill Giovanni, just as Luka had. He hated that he and the assassin shared the same deficit.
“You’ve done a lot more for me over the years,” Giovanni said.
“That’s not true.” His mouth watered, craving a hit of nicotine. “Now, what about putting Luka on this? You don’t like me using him without running it by you.”
“I trust you. Luka and Alina have just been through a lot.”
Even the virgin assassin had snagged himself a partner. One that suited him, despite her being a pain in the ass. Alina was Giovanni’s long-lost, younger aunt on his mother’s side. Giovanni and Alina looked more alike than Antonio and he did. That probably suited Luka. Antonio had often said it teasingly, but the assassin had definitely carried a torch for his brother.
Antonio tapped his fingers against the chair arm. “Alina might not like us giving him an assignment. It’ll keep him away from her.” And she didn’t like Antonio, so the job coming from him would be doubly unwelcome. She was a woman his smile had never worked on; to be fair, though, he could be a jackass when it came to Luka, and he hadn’t shown her his best side.
“She’ll understand. Luka will be watching the meeting later. Let’s see what he thinks after.”
“And let him decide,” Antonio agreed with a nod. “We can bribe him with some of Nera’s treats. He’s too skinny anyway.”
Giovanni looked away. He was on the thin side as well. Antonio had beaten up more than one Di Salvo for calling his brother scrawny.
And now Giovanni was the head of the family, as it was supposed to be.
Antonio pushed up from the chair. “I’m sure the meeting will go smoothly. No one wants a war while they’re in the trenches.” His smile slid into place. “You can leave the talking to me.”
