She looked up, and our eyes met. From the way her irises brightened, the way her lips parted ever so slightly, she knew I was talking about her.
She was my risk—myonlyrisk.
Chapter 8
TATUM
I knew Castello didn’t exactly sell cookies for a living. I, more than anyone, knew he was no goddamn saint. After everything that had happened, I was fully aware of the Fattore family’s power, that they were a force to be reckoned with. I just didn’t know exactlyhowpowerful they were…how powerfulhewas. But maybe that was his plan, the reason he decided to make me his shadow for the day. The reason he dressed me up and had me seated next to him at the breakfast table as if everything between us were normal—which it wasn’t. He wanted to show me exactly what kind of man he was, what kind of power and authority pulsed through his veins. This family was no low-life drug dealers or slave traders. They were dealing with illegal weapons, supplying it to the government. Thinking about it that way actually made it soundlessillegal.
I kept my head down. The piece of bacon I was chewing was impossible to swallow. And I couldn’t even look at the slice of toast that was still on my plate. My appetite had vanished, and for the first time since we left the bedroom half an hour ago, I wanted to go back. I wanted to close the bedroom door and separate myself from reality and once again lose myself inourworld. Unfortunately I was intelligent enough to know that was no longer an option for me. That option disappeared the second I stepped foot out of that bedroom wearing a pair of five hundred dollar Louis Vuitton shoes.
The silence hanging around us like thick smoke suffocated the conversation. I could see by the tick in Castello’s jaw and the way his scar seemed to move next to his eye that he was pissed. It scared me knowing that he was angry. He was a walking stick of dynamite that threatened to go off at any moment. I might not be in shackles or locked between four walls, but I was still here by his choice…not mine.
I wiped my mouth with the napkin and continued to look down. “I’m sorry,” I whispered and glanced at him.
He didn’t reply or respond in any way. Not even with a twitch of his lip or a nod of his head.
“Uncle Gino, is everything in place for our new recruit?”
Disappointment flooded through my chest when I got no acknowledgement from him.
“Yes. Everything is in place.”
“And our other little…problem?”
“Ready for you to deal with.”
“Good.” He tossed his napkin on his plate. “Uncle Gino, would you mind giving me and Tatum a few minutes alone?”
My heart skipped a beat, and my entire body went cold. I looked at him, hoping to see some kind of reassurance that maybe he was no longer angry with me. I needed some kind of sign that would ease the threatening panic looming in the pit of my stomach.
“Of course.” Uncle Gino got up from his seat and left the dining room, closing the door behind him, leaving me with a man whose entire demeanor spoke of irritation and anger.
“I’m sorry, Castello. I didn’t—”
“You spoke out of place.”
“I know. It won’t happen again.”
His fingers toyed with the seam of his napkin, and he still didn’t look at me. “How do you feel about it?”
I frowned. “About what?”
“About what we do.”
“Dealing with illegal weapons?”
He nodded, still staring at the napkin on the table.
I shifted in my seat. “I don’t think I’m in a position to feel anything when it comes to that.”
“Are you saying it doesn’t bother you?”
“I’m saying I choose to keep my opinion to myself…for now.”
For the first time in what seemed like hours, he looked at me. His eyes, his face, he was completely unreadable. Nothing about the way he stared at me gave me any clue as to what was going on inside his head.
He stood up from his chair, and my heart felt like it was about to crack through my ribs. With slow yet confident steps he started to walk around the table dragging his fingers across the white tablecloth.