Page 147 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

Siena sucked in a sharp breath. “John, I’m sorry.”

Fuck that.

His back was to her in the next breath, and then he was gone. He never walked out of that restaurant so fast before. Unfortunately, the man he ran in to outside the business made his blood boil just as badly.

Matteo Calabrese.

“John,” Matteo said. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Siena again?”

“Actually, I was just leaving.”

“Well, wait a second now. I hear the Marcellos are having a Valentine’s party for the family.”

John hesitated. “Are they? I wouldn’t know.”

Matteo nodded with a chuckle. “Guess you’re not invited then, huh?”

The two men stared at each other as the busy street moved around them. Matteo, a Calabrese man who John both despised and distrusted with every fiber of his being. And John, the one Marcello who always seemed to be on the outside looking in when it came to his family.

Something Matteo always like to point out. Or maybe it was just something that the man recognized, when everyone else seem to want to ignore it.

“You know where I am, John,” Matteo said, “if you ever need somebody to talk to. You know I’m always around.”

Why did that feel like a hand to help him up as much as it did a threat?

The Marcellos were known for their parties. All through the year, the family threw events for nearly every holiday. Everyone in the organization was welcome to attend. It was always an open invitation. Made men, the wives, and their kids. John had become accustomed to these kinds of parties over the years.

Yet, as he strolled through the old Marcello mansion, passing by people he knew, and even his own family, he had never felt more out of place. Like mannequins smiling, waving, and talking to him as if they knew each other, like they were old friends.

Except, like mannequins, they seemed plastic. Realistic to look at, and yet still fake.

In the crowd he picked out his grandparents. Old in their features, yet animated and young in their cheer as they chatted with guests. In the corner, he found Andino drinking something dark red from a wine glass.

He didn’t know if his cousin had seen him. John’s attention was elsewhere.

Like always, the top men of the Marcello organization gathered in the same spot for these parties. The main room where they could see and talk to everyone, and also be the center of attention.

This party didn’t look like it was anything different.

John cut through the people, and headed for the one man he needed to speak to. His father.

Lucian saw him coming, and stepped away from his brothers. “John.”

“You didn’t think to invite me?”

“You didn’t think to answer your phone?”

John shoved his hands in his pockets, and stared hard at his father. The differences between them in that moment were a bright contrast, and easy to pick out. Lucian, in his fitted suit. John, in jeans and a hoodie.

“Have you been talking to Andino, or something?” John asked.

His father frowned. “Why would I talk to Andino?”

Did his father not know? Did none of them know what he had done to a man just a couple of days before in a back alleyway?

“I don’t know if it was you, or Dante, or who the fuck it was,” John said, “but I don’t need any of you sending me shit like you did last week.”

“What are you talking about?”