Gian (Trassato Crime Family Book 1)(77)

Alix strummed his fingers on his thigh, his eyes holding me prisoner. “I’ll send you something indicating we’ve removed any objections to Gian’s involvement with Evangeline.”

“Thank you.” I exhaled. “What about me?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Konstantin squeezed my shoulder, and goose bumps broke out over my arms. I hated that my body reacted to him, and I sent out a silent prayer for indifference. “We’ll work out the details later. I’m not in any rush.”

Unable to utter a single word, I nodded. I fled the tiny Russian restaurant in Brighton Beach without looking back, my favorite black heels ticking like a countdown to the end of the world. I’d sold my soul to the devil. Thinking about my future almost made me throw up.





CHAPTER

THIRTY-EIGHT





Gian



“Gian, this needs to stop.”

I drained my glass of whiskey, the now familiar burn the only thing that made me feel alive these days. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Carmela.”

“I know what’s going on. I know you’re screwing with the Russians every chance you get. I know you’re drinking too much. I know you’re pissing people off purely because you can. You’re being reckless, and that’s not who you are.”

I slammed my glass down, the ice rattling together. “You don’t know shit.”

She shut the door to my office with a definitive thud. “Contrary to what Dad and Dominick think, Mom and I do have eyes and ears. We hear the whispered conversations. We see the strained looks.”

I clenched the arms of my chair. “So what?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Dad is dying sooner rather than later, and rather than making peace with his life, he’s going out of his mind because he’s worried about you, which means Mom is coming out of her skin.”

I didn’t need this shit right now. I had all the guilt and regrets I could swallow. “They don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. I’m better than fine. The club has never made so much money. I went on a date with the Amato girl like Mom asked. What more do you want from me?”

That would be the last date I went on for a long time. I could barely be civil to the woman. There was nothing wrong with her. She was attractive. She had a pleasant smile. Our families were friendly, except she wasn’t her. I spent the entire night counting off the minutes until I could leave without offending her or her family. After sixty-three minutes, I slapped a wad of money on the table and hailed her a cab.

Carmela’s lips puckered. “I want you to be happy.”

“Dammit, Carmela. Leave it alone. Okay? I don’t want to do this tonight.” I stood and edged around my desk. “I have a meeting in ten minutes. You need to go.”

She stuck her hand in her tote bag, rooting around for something. “Opening night is tomorrow.”

I shuffled some papers on my desk, ignoring the dull ache in my chest. Fortunately, my sister was smart enough not to mention Evie by name. The last time she did, I came unglued. I woke up with a black eye and a hangover I wouldn’t forget for years. “Great. Have fun.”

She tossed a rectangular ticket on my desk paper clipped to a white envelope. “This is for you.”

Hope flickered inside of my chest. “Who gave you this?”

“I bought the ticket for you. I thought you’d want to see the show.”

I eyed the ticket like it was a snake primed to bite me. “Yeah, well, you were wrong. She doesn’t want anything to do with me, and even if she did, it wouldn’t matter.”

“It matters because you love her.”

I swiped the ticket and envelope from my desk and held it out to her. “Goodbye, Carmela.”

She swatted it away. “Read the letter, you stubborn jerk.”

“Is it from her?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “Read it anyway. You’ll like what it says.”

I tossed the ticket on the chair next to Carmela and slid my finger across the seam of the envelope.



Gian,

I no longer have any objections to your involvement with our mutual acquaintance. You’re free to pursue her without interference.

-A.T.



“Is this real?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Yes.”

“How did you get this?”

“Her brother and I wanted to make this right. We met to discuss our shared interest in helping you two be happy, and this letter showed up at my house a few days later.”

I stuffed the letter and ticket in my pocket. “Fuck, Carmela, tell me you didn’t meet him alone.”

She bit the side of her lower lip, and I knew she was lying. She was my twin. I knew her gestures like the back of my hand, and biting on her lower was her tell.