I stood outside the sitting room and scrolled through my cell phone, trying to find the courage to tell Ava about the engagement.
Heels clicked on the tiled floor, and Vittoria stood in front of me when I lifted my head. She curled her fingers around my wrist and tugged on my arm.
“Can I speak to you for a moment, Nicodemus?”
I glanced into the room at my father, who lit a cigar for Vincenzo. What a sight? They looked like old friends, drinking and smoking and telling war stories. I never thought I’d see the old man settle the score with the Vitales.
But what changed?
I still didn’t understand his motives.
Neither did my brothers.
Was it to keep our enemies closer?
Angelo argued with Carlo in Italian, his voice rising a few octaves. His top lip curled up into a snarl like he was seconds from attacking. “Your wife likes taking it up the ass.” A wicked cackle escaped his throat. “I can send you the video if you need a reminder.” He got in Carlo’s face, who was now standing nose-to-nose with my brother. “Do you think of me every time you fuck that whore?”
“I hear you got a sweet piece of pussy you’re hiding in this hotel.” Carlo gripped Angelo’s tie. “Maybe I’ll pay her a visit later.”
Stefan laughed. “She wouldn’t touch your limp dick.”
“That’s enough,” Dad shouted. He pointed at the chair beside Stefan and tipped his head for Angelo to resume his place. “No more fighting. We’re going to be a family.”
“Fuck them,” Angelo hissed.
“I second that,” Stefan chimed.
Dante folded his arms over his chest and smirked.
“Basta,” Dad yelled. “Sit.”
Angelo’s eyes flared as he looked at our father with a crazed expression.
Dad gritted his teeth. “I said sit, Angelo.”
I couldn’t wait for the wedding.
It would be a miracle if everyone in the bridal party weren’t dead by the end of the reception. And if I had my way, we wouldn’t get to that point. There was a better way to avoid war.
As Vincenzo intervened with Carlo, I took that as my cue to get the fuck out of here. I escorted Vittoria down the hall, so we could get some distance from family bonding time.
Before my brother egged on Carlo, my dad talked too loud and drank too much. He looked happy, content. Maybe it was because my mom was in town for the week. His mood suddenly shifted every time she was here.
Of course, my brothers hated it.
I stopped at the end of the corridor and leaned back against the wall. “What do you want to talk about?”
“The wedding.” Vittoria folded her arms beneath her breasts, a hard stare plastered on her face. “I have my reservations about this marriage. I’m sure you can understand why.”
“Our parents want us to marry.” I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “I don’t see the problem. This is standard practice for Mafia families.”
“Yes.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “I’m well aware of what is normal for people like us. But I have concerns about this working between us.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you have a bit of a reputation,” she said with her nose tipped up like she was better than me. “I’ve heard the rumors. And I refuse to marry you if you’re not planning to be faithful to me.”
Like fucking hell I would ever be faithful to her. Vittoria would be my wife in name only. I was still trying to devise a strategy to get both of us out of the marriage.