Page 35 of The Doctor

As if they recognized their faux pas, the two men froze, then directed their attention toward Paulo.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” Paulo asked, chin raised and fingers still wrapped around the stem of his glass.

Cosimo straightened in his chair, lifting his own chin before he spoke. “I was only wondering what Ms. David was doing here tonight, at our lieutenant’s dinner.” His gaze flashed to Queenie, and by the sudden tension in the room, I was sure I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

Paulo pushed his glass away and sat back in his chair. “Ms. David is here at my request. When I promoted Jet to lieutenant last fall, it came at a price. He’s doing more for me than he’s ever done before, and he needed help. Jael is that help. She brought on Alvarez and has overseen the entire operation on her own. She and her crew have taken on some of the duties Jet is no longer able to do, and her skills have proven to be invaluable.”

“To Arik’s question”—Berto gestured to the man on his right—“what did happen down in Kansas?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Paulo put up a hand, stopping me.

“Our men and women helped take down a financial hacking scheme and the last remnants of the Silva trafficking ring while recovering a teen who’d been kidnapped.” Berto’s eyes narrowed slightly as Paulo gestured toward me and Jet. “While Jet and his crew handled the cleanup, and Zeno helped the injured, Jael handled the police and media fallout that ensued.”

“And the chop shop?” Berto asked. “This whole Alvarez thing and the Florida pipeline? What’s going on with that?”

A tight smile pulled at Paulo’s lips, and he dipped his head. “You’re aware of your piece of it, Adalberto.”

“Yes, I’m aware of the waste you have my company take away from their shop. But what about the rest of it? When are you going to tell us about this Florida contingent and how that ties in with us?”

Paulo lifted his wine glass to his lips, taking a sip while tension thickened the air. “I will tell you what you need to know when you need to know it.”

“Paulo—”

The man raised his hand again, cutting Berto off. “If everybody here knew everything that I know, what would be the point in keeping me around?”

“Papà,” Queenie admonished.

“No, Queenie. It’s true. Not everybody needs to know everything. Berto, how would you like it if everyone here knew your business.”

Berto’s eyes flashed before his gaze darted to me.

And fuck him for that.

I’d gone the entire dinner without once thinking of Clara, and suddenly her little storm cloud was hovering over me again, raining on what had been a beautiful, blissfully Clara-free evening.

I shifted in my chair, and Berto scowled.

“Point made. But I still don’t think it’s right that you’re keeping this from us.”

“I’ll be sure to take your concerns into consideration. Now, back to business.”

The rest of the evening went more smoothly, but there was no denying the underlying strain to the conversation. It was the most uncomfortable I’d been at one of Paulo’s dinners. Even more so than when I’d been told I was to mentor Clara, then had to sit next to her for an entire night.

Fuck.

I threw back the last of my wine, then signaled the woman on Paulo’s staff for a refill. I never drank this much, never allowed myself more than a single glass. I had the health and safety of these guests to worry about. I had the long drive back into the city.

But as Berto threw more and more dirty looks my way, all I could think about was how much I didn’t want to go home.

And how much I wanted to, with thoughts of going to my little hurricane to spite her father.

Of doing to her all the things I couldn’t do.

I was grateful, when the guests had gone to their cars and their drivers had taken them away, that Paulo offered me a bed for the night.

Because there was no telling what I’d do if I found Clara in this state.

There was no doubt that doing so would ruin my life.