Page 107 of Duty

Haven, however, never broke her gaze. “How long have I been seeing Andino?”

Dante chuckled. “Are you testing me? Since August. It’s January now. You do the math.”

“I don’t need to. Did you come here to say something to me, then? If so, do it and get the fuck out.”

Dante glanced at Giovanni. “She is interesting, though.”

Giovanni ignored his brother, and gave his attention to Haven. “My apologies. We meant no harm; we were just—”

“Curious?” she asked.

“Our family is … well, you know, don’t you?”

“Not because he told me, though.”

Christ.

She couldn’t hide the heat in her voice even if she tried. And she had been doing so damn well at seeming calm and in control, too.

Damn.

Giovanni nodded. “I see.”

“Andino is part of a legacy that I don’t expect you to understand,” Dante said, standing from the stool and fixing his jacket. “He may think he can do whatever he pleases as long as the rest of us are unaware as to his activities, but that isn’t the case. It was nice to meet you, Haven. You likely won’t see me again.”

“I can’t say that would be a bad thing,” she returned. “And I won’t apologize for letting you know it, either.”

Dante smiled, and then he just … walked away.

Just like that.

Giovanni was quick to stand from his stool, too, but he didn’t immediately leave. “I am sorry for this. My wife mentioned seeing you at our son’s home, and I passed the message along. I didn’t think this would cause any trouble.”

Haven arched a brow. “Do I look troubled to you?”

“You look pissed, actually. Sad, too.”

“One is for your show here with your brother. The other one isn’t. Don’t worry about me. I get along just fine. As I am sure you know considering how much you already know about me.”

Giovanni glanced away. “Can I assume, based on the what you said about Andino keeping his business and this family private from you, that you’re not aware of the duty and responsibility my son is facing?”

No, she didn’t have a clue.

“That would be a fair assumption,” Haven replied, not unkindly.

“You should ask him, then,” he told her. “And when you do, let him know that his father said the things we find worth keeping are rarely easy. That doesn’t mean he should bend to the same expectations every other man has for this—he is not every other man.”

Haven blinked. “I don’t—”

“Understand, yeah, I know. You don’t have to. He does.”

• • •

“I’m sorry.”

It was the first thing Andino said as he joined Haven on a park bench just a few steps away from where they had randomly encountered each other the first time all those many months ago. He spoke his apology softly—with genuine remorse—even as he handed over a vanilla latte. Her favorite kind; he just remembered.

“Is that apology an in general kind of thing, or are you apologizing for something specific?” Haven asked.