“What Lydia is trying to say,” David cuts in. He scowls, turning a shoulder to Lydia.
“I know exactly what she’s saying.” Giovanni holds up his hand, revoking David’s permission to speak. And I see clearly now.
Giovanni holds him to a higher esteem than most, coming off as compassionate and friendly, but it’s a ruse. David Ridge works for the goddamned mafia. They’re ruthless killers. The Coppolas may have integrated themselves into the community and taken most of their activity underground, but the truth remains.
The Ridges may be treated like family, but it’s not the one that counts.
As I look at David Ridge sitting beside his children, I don’t ask myself why he’d compromise his own flesh and blood. I spent my entire childhood at the mercy of a man who mistreated me to satisfy his own idea of salvation. Blood is thicker than water, but we can’t choose our family. Some of us just have bad blood.
“The terms have changed,” Gio addresses Lydia directly.
“Do you want a bigger cut?” She’s marble under his stanch glower, and I can’t decide if she’s brave or stupid. I secure my hand on her knee like an anchor because we can choose our friends. “Thirty-five percent is generous, but I’ll pay you whatever you want. Leave Talent and Wilder out of it. Hush is mine. They shouldn’t be forced to give up their lives for something they never asked for.”
Her hazel eyes momentarily shift to David accusingly. Talent clears his throat, and he shares a look with his brother.
“No. No, I don’t think I can leave them out of it.” Giovanni shakes his head regretfully. “They’re too important to me, and I can’t allow a whore with an attitude to tell me how to run my organization. Inez Ricci tried that once. She was only allowed certain liberties because of her relationship with my brother, Gino. God rest his soul.”
“Gio, we don’t have a problem continuing our work with you,” Talent says. He’s dropped the act and is as assertive as his brother.
“That’s not good enough anymore, Talent,” Giovanni says.
Nicolai takes this opportunity to speak. He clears his throat and says, “Inez was allowed these liberties because Gino was family. You’re not. You’re associates.” He gestures between Wilder and Talent. “You’re with us, but you’re not really with us, you know? But you can be.”
“No.” Lydia slams the palms of her hands on the table, standing to her feet. The chair slides back and hits the glass wall. “I’ll end it. I’ll take Hush off the table and dismantle the entire thing. My girls will never work another day in your territory, you have my word.”
“It’s too late for that.” Nico shakes his head with a slight frown.
Wilder narrows his eyes at Nicolai. “This is your fucking doing, isn’t it?”
“It’s business, Wilder. You may not see it clearly now, but you will. Eventually.”
“Bullshit,” he fires back. “You’ve wanted us in your fucking family since we were kids, Nico. What happened, you couldn’t dish it out in the real world, so you’re back to make the rest of us as miserable as you are?”
Luca whistles, nodding toward Wilder like,are you going to let him talk to you like that, cousin?
“My children were never part of the deal, Gio,” David says. He twists his wedding ring around his finger. “They were only here to help. My wife and I made it clear that our arrangement ends with me.”
Exhaling audibly, Giovanni’s tense posture softens like he understands the sentiment. Shaking his head, he says, “A time will come when we’re called to the next life, old friend. The decisions we make now will either set up the next generation for greatness or failure. Nicolai is my only son, and he’s returned to me after a bout of rebellion.”
“A bout of rebellion?” Talent asks skeptically, throwing his hands up. “He’s thirty fucking years old. He was sick of everyone’s shit and left.”
“Be that as it may.” Giovanni straightens his tie. The only person in the room wearing one. “He’s here now, and he’ll inherit everything when I’m gone. This is about protecting the dynasty. With Talent and Wilder by his side not as associates, but as his advisors—as made men, they’d be invincible. Once you get a taste of the money and power, you’ll know I was right. Your humble lives here will pale in comparison.”
It’s a death sentence.
Lydia’s head drops between her shoulders, and I cover my mouth with my hand to keep from crying out. Anxiety, regret, and terror that make my fear of the dark feel like child’s play shakes my very foundation. It’s cold to my bones, heart-tearing, and stomach-twisting, and it makes me want to do anything—anything—to make it stop.
They can’t have him,I think with tears in my eyes.He’s mine.
When the hair on the back of my neck stands up and my skin crawls, I don’t have to guess if someone’s watching me. I know it’s Luca before I meet his dead stare, and even that doesn’t scare me as much as losing Wilder to the mob does.
What does Luca think about Giovanni’s arrangement? How does he feel about being looked over? Passed up? Second best?
The sneer on his face tells me this is news to him.
“Sit down, Lydia,” I say bravely. I reach back for her chair and pull it up.
“What?” she asks, trading silly giggles for devastation.
