Page 119 of Chris

He had not planned for Abril, and when he decided to use her help … the woman had her own schemes running. She was dangerous, a lot like the rest of her family, but a hell of a lot less obvious about it, too.

“We should stay out of Mexico as much as possible,” Chris said. “Entirely. I suspect she will be busy tearing down what remains of her father’s cartel to rebuild it in the image she prefers, while—”

“Warring with her rivals.”

“Mmm.”

Gian folded his arms over his chest, considering those words. “You think she would … use us to her advantage, if we were to return, even for vacation?”

“I think anyone—man or woman—who thinks to assume to underestimate Abril Lòpez will deserve everything they get, and our family should not be the ones who she makes an example out of.”

That seemed to be enough for his father.

“I will pass the information along to Andino, then. I am sure the Marcellos won’t be welcome down that way, either.”

“To be safe,” he agreed, “yeah.”

Gian glanced his way again, the kinder smile replacing his stony expression. “As for you …”

“What about me?”

“I hope you will settle down, now. I’ve never said one way or the other, Chris, on famiglia or The League because I thought you had decided long ago.”

He cleared his throat. “I thought I did, too.”

“And now?”

A laugh burst from his chest.

“This was enough for me. I am a made man, and nothing more. That’s where I need to be, and where I want to be. Corrado and I, well, we’re old enough now we don’t need to be looking over each other’s backs all the time, I think.”

“You’re not wrong.” Gian nodded, reaching over to clap his son on the shoulder. “And on the made bit, good.”

“What would you have said, if I chose the other option?”

“The same thing, son.”

Right.

Because that was his father in a nutshell.

And his mother, too.

Speaking of which …

Across the room, Cara took a hug from Maria before the girl darted to take her mother’s outstretched hand. Valeria shot Chris a smile over her shoulder before the two disappeared into the connected bedroom of the hotel room. Once the door was shut behind them, Cara looked her son’s way with a familiar smile that had his chest growing tight.

He loved his ma.

All the Guzzi boys did.

“She is a sweet child,” Cara said, crossing the room to stand in front of Chris. She patted his cheek with a soft palm, pride and support shining through in her actions, and in her eyes. “I was worried about you.”

“Sorry, Ma.”

“You didn’t call enough.”

“It wasn’t safe, really.”