Page 6 of Loyalty

“No one ever said that.”

But they might as well have.

“Putting me in an institution would have labeled me exactly that.”

“We just wanted you healthy.”

“I am.”

Gio passed him another look. “Let’s hope you stay that way.”

“Thanks for that, asshole.”

“I’m just being real, John. We both know if you don’t keep managing this like you’ve been forced to for the last three years, you can easily relapse into another episode.”

John knew that, but it still made his anger rear its ugly head. His saving grace was being able to control it now, whereas he couldn’t before.

“By the way,” Gio said as he pushed the gas pedal harder.

“What?”

“Happy birthday, John.”

• • •

A drop of tension crawled down John’s spine as his uncle pulled up to the iron-wrought gate. A long, twisty driveway led up to a mansion with two wings, three floors, a pool, and a guest house out back. The estate rested on six acres of property in Tuxedo Park.

The Marcello family home was massive.

“Passcode, please,” a robotic voice commanded from the speaker Gio was talking in to.

“Seven, two, six, nine, five, five,” his uncle replied.

“Please speak your name clearly for voice recognition.”

“Giovanni David Marcello.”

The speaker buzzed for a split second before the gate shuddered and began to open automatically. Gio pulled the car through the opening the moment the vehicle could fit through. It never failed to amaze John how careful and protective their family was about keeping their private lives hidden from public view. He understood, of course, but it was still amusing.

“Voice recognition?” John asked. “When did Antony have that put in?”

“A year ago.”

“Why?”

Gio stilled in his seat. “Just because, I suppose.”

“Are you being purposely difficult, or what?”

Quickly, Gio put the car in park at the mid-way point on the driveway between the gate and the house.

“He put it in because he’s not young, John. He’s eighty-seven, and he doesn’t like to be reminded of the things he’s not capable of doing at his age. He’s not quick on his feet, his eyesight is terrible, and he wants his wife to feel safe.”

“What happened to the guard he had?”

“You’ll see,” Gio muttered as he put the car in drive again. “Just don’t say anything to him about his age or the changes. It bothers him and then Cecelia gets pissy.”

“I got it.”