Filed to story: The Mafia Boss’s Regret (Ava & Dante)
Brother-in-law. Brother. In. Law.
As my eyes fell downward, I paused.
The water was running pink.
He was washing blood off his hands.
“Good day at work?” My tone was sweet and sarcastic.
He flicked an amused gaze to me. “And look at how well you play wife. Starting to think I got the short end of the stick.”
My eyes followed his to see Lydia sitting on the floor, cross-legged in the corner, playing what looked like a game on her phone. She was at least dressed appropriately in a yellow halter dress and flats. It would take blackmail to get her in heels.
The TV sounded from behind the low wall that separated the kitchen from the living room, and I imagined Benito was settled on the couch with his arms resting across the back as he always had them. In the background, my mamma was squealing about how big the shower was.
I tilted my head. “I think we do much better as fratello and sorella, don’t you?”
He licked his lips, running his teeth across the bottom one thoughtfully, but it looked like he was thinking about all the wrong things.
Those butterflies took flight.
“If you say so, Ava.”
“I do, Ace.”
He dried his hands and tossed the hand towel on the counter. Just like a man not to hang it back up.
“You been reading up on me?”
“Maybe.” I lifted a shoulder. “But no one knows why they call you Ace. Can you kill a man with a playing card?”
That amused him. “Why does it have to be about killing? Maybe I’m just damn good at cards.”
I raised a brow. “Are you?”
My heartbeat raced as he walked toward me, because it felt more like a stalk than anything.
“I’m all right.” His expression hinted at dark amusement, like he knew something I didn’t. He stepped within a foot of me, braced a hand on the fridge above my head, and then leaned in until I could see nothing but him.
I held my breath.
His gaze was thoughtful, as though he wondered if he could trust me with his secrets, whether he wanted to.
“You didn’t read much about me,” he guessed.
I shook my head.
He ran a thumb across my chin, right below my bottom lip and down the small indention. “First man I killed, I shoved an ace of spades down his throat.”
I swallowed as he took a step back and walked away from me.
“Name’s been with me ever since.”
“What about her?”
“Bitter and bisexual,” Lydia answered blandly, taking a sip of wine from her seat beside me at the island.
“How can you tell she’s bisexual?” I asked.
“She’s checked out Gianna’s boobs and Benito.”
I paused. “Well, her boobs are kind of distracting.”
My sister tilted her head, regarding Gianna’s breasts. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
The penthouse was full of about twenty Morettis I hardly knew. The women stood in a corner, talking amongst themselves, and the last thing I wanted to do was small talk. Lydia should have been getting to know them better, but she never did anything by the book.
Papà was speaking to Dan, who had just come out of his room freshly showered and dressed in a black suit. Mamma’s smile was fake-she was doing a poor job of feigning interest in Dante’s aunt’s conversation. And Lydia and I sat here, playing a game where we judged people by two words, only because Mamma took my sister’s phone-and therefore Angry Birds-and yelled at her to get off the floor.
So far, Lydia thought everyone looked bitter and had some kind of secret sexuality. I didn’t think she was giving this game her all.
She still hadn’t shared with me why she’d been so upset last night, and that could mean two things: she’d given it some thought and decided it wasn’t as bad as she initially believed; or, the one I was concerned about-she’d decided not to listen to his demands. How would Dante deal with that? My stomach tightened.
“Your turn,” Lydia said, picking at the label on my empty wine cooler.
At that moment, the door swung open and a groaned “Why?” escaped my lips.
Tony stood on the other side of the door with Jenny. Her blond hair was down, her dress was tight and navy blue, the same color as her eyes as they landed on us. “Ohmygod, hi! It’s been forever since I’ve seen you!”
Lydia rolled her eyes. She hated fake cheer, or really, just cheer in general. It wasn’t my favorite either, but I understood fake better than anyone.
I nudged my sister’s shoulder, silently telling her to be nice.
Jenny’s screech brought everyone’s attention to the door. Dan’s gaze landed on her while speaking to my papà. I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t for him to glance away to finish his sentence, uninterested.
Tony headed to Benito and Dominic, who hung out near the minibar, and Jenny came straight to us. I tensed as my brother walked by Dante, and then let out a breath when there was no altercation. They only glanced at each other with indifference. I’d never understand men.
“I’m so happy for you, Lydia,” Jenny said as she reached us. “Your wedding is so soon.” It looked like Jenny wanted to hug her, but my sister’s expression made it clear she didn’t want to be touched. Jenny took an awkward step back after coming too close.
I tried to lighten the mood and smiled. “How are you, Jenny? I hear you’re graduating culinary school soon.”
“Yes, but I don’t think I’ll ever be as good a cook as Celia.” She said it loudly enough for my mamma to hear, who only pursed her lips and sipped her cocktail.
I swore Lydia muttered, “Suck-up.”
Truthfully, nobody liked Jenny.