Page 6 of Marcus

Simple as that.

“Ignore it,” Chris said with a sigh, finally tossing the magazine back to the desk, done with it. Marcus wished he could do the same but shit just wasn’t that easy for him. “We’ll get the lawyers to send them a warning, and they’ll back off for a bit.”

Yeah, but for how long?

That was the real question.

“Vanna gets a kick out of it,” Bene said, pulling his phone out to read something on the screen when it buzzed. “Makes bets with me about how many lies she’ll find each week.”

Marcus’s jaw ached. “I’m so glad my frustration is her amusement, Bene.”

His brother shot him a look, arching a brow. “Hey, it’s not like that.”

Yeah, he knew.

Marcus was just … a little sore about the topic.

“And watch your fucking tone about my wife,” his brother added.

He had all he could do not to roll his eyes, but Marcus held it back. Because that’s not what twenty-nine-year-old men with the status of an underboss did, even if that’s all he fucking wanted to do in that moment.

“You know it’s not about Vanna,” he said quietly.

Bene shrugged. “Yeah, I got it.”

And it wasn’t.

Truly.

It took a while, and the first Guzzi son of their generation being born to Vanna and Bene, given the same name Marcus held because that was their tradition … but Marcus moved past what happened all those years ago.

And he loved his godson.

Like nobody knew.

“How’d the meeting in Quebec go?” Chris asked.

“Could have come along, being a Capo and all.”

Chris smirked. “Yeah, but they don’t even wear suits, so …”

“Alessio doesn’t wear a suit,” Marcus returned, referring to Chris’s twin’s one spouse, “and you sit down to dinner with him all the time.”

“I also don’t want to kill Les, you know?”

“Fair enough. And it went fine. I assume they’re going to keep pushing the line, but as long as they don’t jump all the way over it, then I will ignore them for the time being.”

“You think that’s smart?” Bene asked.

Marcus dropped into the chair beside the man. “They’re not worth anything else.”

“For now.”

Right.

That couldn’t be forgotten.

Bene waved his phone. “Someone sending out reminders about the meeting tonight at the mansion. What’s that about, anyway? Since when does Papa call meetings in the middle of the week anymore?”