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“I always do,” Giovanni murmured in reply.
Antonio had almost made it to the door when his brother’s voice came to him again.
“You can talk to me, Antonio,” Giovanni said.
He looked back into those eyes, the same color as their father’s, but so different with that kinder mind behind them.
“About anything,” Giovanni added.
Antonio let his smile widen. “I thought you said you didn’t want to hear about my sex life.” He turned back to the door, gliding through it. He didn’t let his smile drop in case any other Di Salvos were around.
He decided to take a nap. If Giovanni was worried about him, then he really was too tired. He’d need his wits around him for the meeting later.
Chapter 12
Vespa hated that she was nervous about heading into the meeting. Part of it was because she had two stubborn people to protect, with both Montrell and Beatrice attending. At least she’d won the argument to show up fashionably late, though not to the point of being rude. Something about being there first, with only the Di Salvos for company, felt like a situation she didn’t want.
And, if she were honest with herself, she was delaying seeing Antonio again. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been balls-deep inside her and straining not to flood her pussy. Her jaw flexed as the memory slid over her skin. It wasn’t just the great sex memories making her nervous, though—at least not directly.
This was the first time they would be face-to-face for business, not pleasure, at least since the pleasure had started.
Sleeping with someone in La Cosa Nostra had been a mistake.
She had prepared herself for the worst, but when they entered the conference room, Antonio greeted them from Giovanni’s side without a twitch. He focused on Montrell and his wife first, as was proper. His smile was his typical false one, the one he’d worn at every meeting she’d attended before.
“Vespa,” he said with a nod.
“Di Salvo,” she replied, letting her eyes shift to study the room.
The other players were already there. Santino Lucchese, Beatrice’s father, tugged on his collar and looked on nervously from the corner. Beatrice wanted to take care of him herself, and Vespa respected her for the sentiment.
Franco Rossi had his normal, pervy smile on as he surveyed the room. He was a large man with flabby skin around his chin and unfortunate taste in suits. He likely paid a fortune for them, but the colors were garish. Rumor was he’d killed his first two wives and was working on snagging number three. The Rossis made most of their money from human trafficking, and Vespa wouldn’t have been surprised if the poor girl he was pursuing now had little choice in the matter.
Rossi was a horrible human being, but he didn’t hide it.
Leandro Barone, on the other hand, was someone Vespa had never been able to read.
The Barone family specialized in both narcotics and weapons, which overlapped with the Coronellas fairly often. After taking over the business, Montrell had scaled back to only focus on weapons. Illegal weapons weren’t a moral business, but his soft heart had struggled more with human trafficking and drugs. While their guns could wind up in anyone’s hands, Montrell felt it was the least of the available evils. Vespa let him fool himself.
There was no such thing as ‘good people’ in the Mafia. Vespa knew she was as dirty as everyone else.
Leandro Barone crossed to extend his greetings, drawing her gaze back to him. He always appeared buttoned-down, with well-groomed manners. His suits were elegant, a lot like Antonio’s style. Barone was older than everyone else present, with salt-and-pepper hair even in his trim beard. He was gorgeous: his body fit, his skin flawless, his smile measured. If Vespa had been into older men, his looks would definitely have rung her bell. He’d lost his wife years before during a hit and had been seen with younger women lately, ones the age of his daughter, a Mafia princess still available to be married off.
Barone had once made it clear that the honor of her hand would never be offered to a Coronella. Montrell had been relieved since he’d still been enamored with Beatrice despite the engagement failing at the time.
Vespa listened to the greetings. After the normal song and dance with Montrell and Beatrice, she was surprised when Barone’s eyes focused on her.
“Vespa,” he greeted. His eyes were blue, a lighter shade than the Di Salvos’ cobalt. “You’re looking well. I’ve heard you’ve been more than doing your part at keeping Coronella safe.” He smiled, his lips appearing thin beneath his neatly trimmed facial hair. “You should be commended. That hit at the docks sounded particularly lethal.”
Montrell clapped a hand on her shoulder. “There’s none like Vespa. I’m thankful to have her at my back.”
“Don’t get sappy,” Vespa muttered, shrugging him off.
Barone was nodding. His eyes lingered on her before shifting to Montrell. “You’re a very lucky man.” He turned toward Beatrice, his eyes barely skimming over her even though she was decked out in finery and as beautiful as usual. “In many ways. Please excuse me.”
Vespa was relieved when he moved on to talk to the Di Salvos. He’d skeeved her out for a second there, like maybe he was coming onto her.
“Is that usual?” Beatrice asked quietly.
