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Antonio had gotten no sleep the night before, despite lying down with Vespa. Her words kept curling in his brain, reminding him of his own issues with his mother.
Enzo’s nose wrinkled. “You smell like shit too.”
He hadn’t changed out of his suit and still smelled like Vespa, like a gunfight and a brawl mixed with the oatmeal-and-honey shampoo she used. He’d disappeared outside for a drag on his vape pen often enough throughout the day that his hands no longer smelled of her.
It wasn’t only thoughts of killing his mother that pinged inside him, though they were slowly taking over. He remembered the look in her eyes when she realized he’d switched out the poison, giving it to her instead of Giovanni.
His smoking was partly an excuse to eavesdrop on their men, hoping to find an outlet for his own anger. His perpetual scowl must have given him away. Not a damn one had said anything disparaging about Nera or Giovanni. There’d been no excuse to drag anyone to the basement.
He’d considered gunning down a Lucchese instead, but they’d been holed up on their estate according to his informants.
None of whom knew a damn thing about Leandro Barone’s long-lost son.
Which reminded him that he’d gotten a marriage proposal the day before. Antonio was irritated by the memory. “Were you ever pushed toward marriage?” he asked his uncle.
Enzo raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me the Coronellas’ enforcer popped the question?”
The idea of Vespa proposing eased the tension in Antonio’s jaw. She would never, but it’d be ridiculously entertaining if she did. “Not her.”
“Figured she wasn’t the type.” Enzo crossed his inked arms, turning toward him. “Who was it?”
“Leandro Barone offered me his daughter. I declined.”
“Barone isn’t stupid, considering grooming you.”
“I already have my place among the Di Salvos.” Antonio stared at the door in front of him. “I’m not interested in more.”
“There was a time you were, wasn’t there?” Enzo asked.
Antonio shook his head, though he was lying. He’d been too young in the beginning to see past his mother’s words. He’d only wanted to please her. Then she wouldn’t be disappointed in him. In life. “I support Giovanni.”
“I don’t doubt you do.” Enzo studied him in the dimness of the hallway sconce. Giovanni had switched out the fluorescent bulbs for something softer, something that didn’t strain Nera’s eyesight.
“There are other ways to support Giovanni and Nera, you know,” Enzo said. “An alliance is one.”
“I thought you were all for me being with Vespa?” The hair along his arms rose as he said her name aloud.
“I thought you said that wasn’t anything serious,” Enzo countered.
“It’s not.” Antonio couldn’t explain why the denial made his heart pound or why the memory of her bruises still made him want to carve into someone.
“It can be, and this marriage idea with Barone could still work. Arranged marriages take on many shapes.” But Enzo scowled, remembering the past.
“And we’ve seen how sharp those shapes can be.” Antonio shook his head. “No. The time for that type of thing has passed. And good riddance.” Giovanni had married for love. Montrell had as well.
That was what marriage should always be about: love.
Antonio hadn’t always believed that, but he’d always known marriage wasn’t for him. His attention span wouldn’t remain on one person long enough. Besides, he’d never loved anyone beyond his brother. Even now, if Enzo made a move on Giovanni, Antonio would shoot him without hesitation. The only person he might hesitate to shoot would be Nera, but mainly because he wouldn’t believe she’d betray Giovanni.
He struggled to imagine Vespa coming after them. She’d probably tell him all about it beforehand because she couldn’t keep a secret, and he’d take her out before she made a move.
The grape scent felt like it was suffocating him.
“Did you find out anything from Barone?” Enzo asked.
“Besides that his daughter is available?” Antonio sighed, his hand moving to the back of his neck. “I got a couple of threads to pull. Did you remember anything else about his son?”
“No. Need me to ask around?”
