Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
“Don’t be daft,” the boss replied, “you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t.”
Giorgio sighed deeply, clearly annoyed if the way he glanced up at Salvatore with a warning in his eyes gave any indication. “It’s been a decade of this bullshit between you and her. Wouldn’t catch me dead letting my wife parade around the world doing whatever the fuck she pleased whenever she got mad at me. No, I wouldn’t allow it. You thought I hadn’t noticed how you two only get a couple of good months before she’s on the warpath again?”
“My wife can do as she pleases, because she is my wife,” Salvatore replied, carefully choosing his words knowing it could make or break Giorgio’s mood. “That was the deal you and I made, correct? You got the baby, and I got the problem.”
He wanted to say woman, not problem.
But alas. Careful words for a careless man.
“Well, that she is. Your problem, I mean. Why didn’t you pass this through me, Sal?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“That,” Giorgio muttered heavily, his stare narrowing on the same spot his hand extended to gesture toward. Nico and Frankie now danced slower, but her back tucked against his chest as he slung both arms around her neck and spoke in her ear. Whatever he said, she smiled. “That is...”
Giorgio couldn’t seem to come up with appropriate words.
Salvatore cleared his throat and took a page from Carina’s book. “I think they’re in love.”
“You think?”
“Look at them and tell me what you see.”
“A boy that thinks with one head instead of two and a girl better suited to a man with higher standing.”
“Higher than a boss’s son, Giorgio?” Silence answered Salvatore’s question. He didn’t mind. He just posed another quieter. “Or does it just depend on the son?”
Giorgio’s head snapped as if on a swivel. “Excuse me?”
“If this were Marco, would we be having the conversation at all? Had he brought home a woman of his choosing, decent or one of ill repute, would we be having this conversation right now?”
“That one will be forced down the aisle, so the question is irrelevant.”
“No, it isn’t, you just don’t want to answer.”
“You are out of line, Salvatore. I feel like that’s been happening a lot lately with you.”
“Mmm, no. I think I’m right on the mark, actually.”
“I’m starting to believe you’ve forgotten your place.”
In fact, he couldn’t forget it and the barely hidden threats didn’t concern him. Salvatore decided right then to prove his point just because he could, and Giorgio needed a good kick off his high horse.
“Had the roles between those boys been reversed, and Marco got thrown on my doorstep as something to clean up for you, and months later he brought my daughter to your home to share the news of his engagement to her, you would have been ecstatic.”
Giorgio scowled.
Salvatore continued, “As if he might ever come close to deserving her. As if that, I would’ve given my blessing.” He scoffed. “Right.”
“And what, Nico does?”
Oh, he could hear the offense Giorgio took in his tone. God forbid someone put down the Golden Child of the family. One might think, from the outside looking in, said title belonged to Carmen. They would also be wrong.
“Here’s what Nico doesn’t do,” Salvatore countered, smirking a little. “Nico doesn’t purposely seek out things his brother likes and is proud of to ruin and destroy. Nico doesn’t intentionally hurt and humiliate his brother because he’s jealous, or because his father paid him more attention at any given time. Nico doesn’t, as often as he can manage, make it his personal mission to be seen as better, or above, his brother. He doesn’t have to. He just is.”
Salvatore chuckled, knowing good and well Giorgio wouldn’t like what came next in the slightest. “One of those boys went to college, whether he got expelled is neither here nor there, given the choice he made that got him kicked out in the first place. One of those boys tattooed his body top to bottom just because he knew you hated it, and it would get your attention. One can sit at a table with men who are his betters and learn from them, and the other needed six abortions arranged for various girls, younger than him, and caught two STIs by the time he hit sixteen. Shall I continue?”
Again, Giorgio said nothing through clenched teeth.
“One knows the rules; the other doesn’t care.”
“Sal.”
“One will make millions of dollars this year and next.”
“Sal.”
“The other keeps burning out the properties of a man—”
“Okay, the point is made,” Giorgio hissed, glowering.
“Boss,” Salvatore replied, as respectfully as he could manage, “If you want to ignore what’s right in front of your face, then suffer for it. Don’t expect everybody else to do the same. If Marco doesn’t like to be behind his brother, then he should stop trying to compete with him. He’s causing his own misery. Besides, he’ll never catch up because it’s not a race, and Nico isn’t trying to win. He’s just happy. Ask yourself why that alone bothers Marco enough to behave the way he does. Maybe then, we’ll get to the real root of the issue.”