Peace in the streets of New York City.
I opened the door and walked out of the room before Enrico stepped out after me. He shut the door and grabbed my arm, then pulled me aside toward a concealed hallway. My eyes fluttered up to his, and he released his grip on me, and I could tell he had something on his mind.
“What is it?” I asked
“I want you to know I support you. Always.”
“I appreciate that, Enrico.”
“And if you don’t want to go talk to Romeo, you don’t have to. I can field your uncle. That’s not a problem,” he said.
“That’s sweet of you, thank you. But unfortunately, he’s right.”
“What?” he asked.
“If I don’t want to bring Matteo into this—even with my dedication to the idea of peace—then I have to step in. To talk with Romeo and hear him out and see what kind of agreement or conclusion we can come to.”
“Then you don’t do this alone,” he said. “I’m coming with you to this meeting.”
“That isn’t necessary, Enrico.”
“You said so yourself. He had six men with him last night, and you didn’t have a single one.”
“And I grabbed my weapon of choice and poised myself, just like you taught me,” I said.
“This isn’t a good idea, Julia.”
“But it’s the only one we’ve got. We do have a chance to enact peace right now through my prior relationship with Romeo. It’s at least worth another conversation.”
I knew Enrico wasn’t happy. After all, he was the one that taught me how to defend myself. That was one of my father’s requirements after I’d had Matteo. Once I was feeling better and able to run business as usual in my life, Enrico was responsible for teaching me how to fight. How to defend myself. I was small, but I was strong, and that meant bigger people were at a disadvantage against my training due to underestimating me.
Enrico had been good to me for many years. I was okay by myself now because of him.
“I don’t like this,” Enrico said.
“You’ve already crossed a line with my uncle,” I said. “By telling him you still answer to my father. Or were at least commanded by him. My uncle sits on the same seat my father did, and he can fire you if he wishes. Don’t butt heads with him, Enrico. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I’m worried about you,” he said. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, either.”
I sighed as I took a step away from him.
I’d known for a couple of years now that Enrico cared for me more than he needed to. The way he glanced at me a little too long. The way he quickly came to my defense even when he knew it wasn’t necessary. The way he hovered at times whenever I was by myself or with Matteo out in public. There were many times where people had mistaken him for my boyfriend, and I could see his dejected eyes whenever I would correct them and call him “my best friend.”
And he was.
Enrico, by all accounts, was the closest friend I had.
I trusted him more than anyone else. He was the only person I felt comfortable leaving Matteo with alone. I knew that, above all else, his allegiance fell with me and my well-being instead of the well-being of the family. Of the mafia. Of the criminal syndicate my family had brought to the States when they migrated decades ago. I didn’t have the same feelings for him, and he knew that. I made sure it was clear whenever things became awkward between us.
I needed someone I could trust at my side with the road I was about to travel.
Which was why I didn’t need him pissing off my uncle.
“Enrico—”
“I know, I know. I’m your bodyguard and your friend. Nothing else. But that doesn't mean I still can’t be worried about you. It’s technically my job,” he said.
He had a point.