Page 112 of Bene

He let her go and turned to face the room again.

The room watched on.

Now, Mario walked the thin line.

Vanna liked that better.

The restaurant separated into two distinct sections, with a row of tables directly in the middle with regular patrons who didn’t seem to have the first clue about the danger they were currently in that Vanna had dubbed no man’s land. On the left side of the business, the Guzzi men dominated three tables, passing drinks back and forth, laughing at the jokes told between them, and ordering more food every so often.

On the right …

Well, the Detti clan fumed.

Perhaps it was because they couldn’t actually do anything here when the Guzzis had yet to cause a problem. And that was the thing, wasn’t it?

They just were.

Their presence, solid and loud.

A power play if she ever saw one.

Mario hadn’t been ready for that.

“All right, I think it’s just about time you cafones take your leave here,” came the thundering voice of one of Senior’s closest men as he stood from his table. With a narrowed gaze locked on the Guzzi men across the way, it seemed he had at least reached his limit of dealing with the outliers. Silence stretched on in the business, and for the first time, Vanna figured some of the diners who were just regular people off the street were starting to understand this situation wasn’t normal as they glanced between the two groups.

Perfect.

So much for not causing a scene.

Marcus Guzzi spoke first. “We’ll leave when we’re ready—sit down, don’t make none and there won’t be none.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“A problem,” Bene said over his shoulder, but passing something that looked like a card to his brother across the table. “Don’t make a fucking problem, and there won’t be one.”

“I—”

“If your boss wants to have a discussion about why he’s been encroaching on our business on the east side, then we’ll chat,” Marcus said, “but otherwise, I’m going to continue enjoying my food, and then maybe I’ll leave when I’m done. And unless you’re going to make me do something different, I would love to see you try, I suggest you sit down, and shut the hole in your face before someone else does it for you.”

The air sucked out of the room.

Silence reigned.

Marcus went back to cutting the piece of chicken in front of him as though he wasn’t bothered at all by the turn of events, and he hadn’t just threatened a man. “This is good, not dry at all,” he told the man to his left at the table, “so someone give the chef my compliments.”

It took another ten minutes.

The Dettis conversed in hushed tones.

And then chairs were moved.

Tables pushed together.

On one side, Marcus sat with his plate of food, now alone at his table as the rest of his men scattered to all the corners of the room. On the other side of the table, Senior and Mario sat in their own chairs to face him for the chat he wanted to have.

With no one watching her … or so she thought, Vanna took the chance to slip into the back hallway leading to the bathroom. She needed a breather, a second to be alone, and deal with the emotions warring in her mind and heart.

She didn’t get the moment.