Page 21 of Reign of Fate
I don’t believe his bullshit for a second. I’m going to give him enough rope to let him hang himself. I extend my hand. “Give me the envelope,” I order. Ruggero does so immediately. “I want the file with the digital copies in my inbox within the hour. Clive will be reassigned tomorrow, and you will present yourself tomorrow morning. Raffaele or I will let you know when and where.” I step closer, looming over Ruggero. There’s fear in his eyes. He’s hiding something else. I still don’t have McDaniel’s account of the interaction between Ruggero and him, but I would bet every last cent I have that Ruggero was shaking our politician down for money.
“Get out of here,” I tell him. I watch as they crawl into Ruggero’s sporty new BMW and drive off. “Did you put the tracker on his car?” I ask Nino, the man left hiding in the shadows.
“Yes, sir,” Nino responds. “Do you want me to follow them?”
“I do.”
“I’ll make sure your date gets home and make up some excuse,” Levio says, stepping up. Nino nods and hops in his car, following the same route where we saw Ruggero go.
“Notify McDaniel that I’ll be in touch with him later tonight. I’ll call Raffaele. Right now, I need to get back inside.” I walk away. I’ve been missing long enough, and I’m furious that my evening was interrupted by a pissant like Ruggero.
ELISA
The food arrived, and after five minutes of waiting with our meal sitting in front of me, I asked the waiter to please keep it warm. Ivo told me to start without him, but it doesn’t feel right. I’ve had plenty of meals alone lately. It’s a nice change to sit with Ivo.
He’s hugely intimidating when you first see him, but under that rough exterior is a very intelligent man. He can also be funny, and a few times, he’s joked with me, and I found myself laughing so hard, my belly ached. The more time I spend with this man, the more I find myself thinking about him. These thoughts make me wonder what it will be like when Ivo kisses me properly. So far, his lips have grazed my cheek, but he’s holding back.
What if he doesn’t find me attractive? I dressed with the intention of getting a rise out of Ivo. I strived for elegant yet alluring. I thought I accomplished my task when his eyes raked over my form from top to toe, and I saw the heated desire in his expression. I relished the moment as his hand at my back guided us to our seats.
Unfortunately, it became clear that we were the center of attention of the other patrons in the restaurant. I recognize a few of the men and their wives. These are the same women who were quick to pass judgment on me and the reason I attended functions without Guido. They assumed I was searching for a lover.
I found it odd that Ivo stopped at several tables and pray I didn’t make my discomfort known and he simply dropped by to say hello. We were having such a pleasant talk when he was suddenly heading to the door to take a call, but I soon saw that it was not a call, but a problem.
Imagine my shock when I noticed Ruggero walking past me and leaving the restaurant. He saw me too, and his expression was anything but kind. He was sneering, and his eyes were daggers aimed right at me. It sent cold shivers down my spine.
I averted my gaze and swept the room to see the cackling hens congregating at one of the tables. I recognized Levio with his date earlier. He was a nice person and a decent friend to Guido. He attempted several times to see him after the horrible attack from the Bratva. Guido let him come around a few times, but eventually cut him off as well, constantly making excuses and avoiding his calls. I wish I had a better opinion of his wife, Miranda, but that’s difficult when I remember the ugly words said about me. Even though they didn’t come from her, she didn’t defend me either.
Ivo comes through the front door and heads straight back to our table, his jaw hard. He’s visibly annoyed. I assume his change in mood has to do with Ruggero.
“That took longer than I wanted,” Ivo states with exasperation. He looks down at his empty place setting.
I jump in. “I sent it back to keep warm. There’s nothing worse than a cold steak.” He looks at me like he’s trying to figure me out. “We need to tell the waiter we’re ready.” He’s still staring. I touch my cheek and look down at my dress. Nothing seems out of place. “Did I do something wrong?”
He grins. “Not at all.” He gets the waiter’s attention, and within seconds, our meals arrive. He waits for me to take a bite before tasting his. “We need to discuss our wedding arrangements,” he says smoothly.
“I would like to keep it simple,” I say. I hate being on display. It was different when Guido and I got married. Guido wanted the attention, and he wasn’t going to let others believe that he was giving up and wouldn’t be walking again soon. We were young and thought we were invincible. It made sense at the time.
“I agree. However, we need to consider your family. Surely, they’ll want to be in attendance. I’m sure you want a church wedding,” he says.
“I don’t care about that. As for my family,” I shrug, “if they come, they come. If not,” I sigh, “then it doesn’t matter.” My father will be there because he considers it a coup to have his daughter married to Raffaele’s consigliere. Mom will have an excuse to buy a lavishly expensive new dress, and my brother will have to take time out of his day to attend. That may be a good thing. Dad has got him basically running the territory, and Leno rarely has time to talk anymore. “What about your family?”
“Adriana is my family. And Raffaele and Evangeline, of course. My parents are dead, and I’m an only child. I do, however, need to think about my position, as Raffaele keeps reminding me. A few invitations to the more senior underbosses will be necessary.”
I suck in my lower lip. I knew we wouldn’t be able to get away with walking into city hall, but I was hoping to do without the inquisitive eyes of the underbosses and their wives. I nod, understanding this is a must for his position.
“I won’t wear a white dress. It isn’t appropriate.”
“As long as it isn’t black, bright red, or outlandish, wear what you like,” Ivo responds. “We will marry in a church.”
“But I—”
“This isn’t something either of us should be ashamed of. We were both previously married, and we decided we’re a good match. Simple as that.”
“People will talk.” Even I can hear the tremble in my tone.
He reaches over and rests his hand over mine. “Let them.” His lips curve into a sly smile. “I dare them.”
The problem is, they wouldn’t dare do it in Ivo’s presence, but I’m sure to hear about it. His decision is absolute. There’s no point in arguing over the matter. And whether it be a church or garden ceremony, tongues will wag. It won’t matter what I wear. Bitchy women will always find a reason to gossip.
