Page 155 of Loyalty

“Andino.”

John tipped his head to the side. “Did you talk to Andino?”

Siena’s gaze darted away. “We ran in to each other.”

Lies.

He saw her lies.

This woman never lied.

Not to him.

“Try that again,” he told her. “This time, though, with the truth.”

Siena swallowed hard. “I was worried about you.”

That was all John needed to hear. In a second, his desire to have food, and even be near this woman was gone just like that. Andino had been following John around since he found him at the pool hall. Talking about John’s frame of mind and shit he had no business discussing. Things John wasn’t willing to talk about with anybody other than his useless fucking therapist.

“John, wait,” Siena said, standing from the table.

No, he was done.

At least for now.

“I’ll call you,” he told her.

Siena sucked in a sharp breath. “John, I’m sorry.”

Fuck that.

His back was to her in the next breath, and then he was gone. He never walked out of that restaurant so fast before. Unfortunately, the man he ran in to outside the business made his blood boil just as badly.

Matteo Calabrese.

“John,” Matteo said. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Siena again?”

“Actually, I was just leaving.”

“Well, wait a second now. I hear the Marcellos are having a Valentine’s party for the family.”

John hesitated. “Are they? I wouldn’t know.”

Matteo nodded with a chuckle. “Guess you’re not invited then, huh?”

The two men stared at each other as the busy street moved around them. Matteo, a Calabrese man who John both despised and distrusted with every fiber of his being. And John, the one Marcello who always seemed to be on the outside looking in when it came to his family.

Something Matteo always like to point out. Or maybe it was just something that the man recognized, when everyone else seem to want to ignore it.

“You know where I am, John,” Matteo said, “if you ever need somebody to talk to. You know I’m always around.”

Why did that feel like a hand to help him up as much as it did a threat?

• • •

The Marcellos were known for their parties. All through the year, the family threw events for nearly every holiday. Everyone in the organization was welcome to attend. It was always an open invitation. Made men, the wives, and their kids. John had become accustomed to these kinds of parties over the years.

Yet, as he strolled through the old Marcello mansion, passing by people he knew, and even his own family, he had never felt more out of place. Like mannequins smiling, waving, and talking to him as if they knew each other, like they were old friends.