I give him one last nod and head back over to where Rokiades is standing impatiently. “I wouldn’t have expected you to make a fool of yourself over a man,” Yannis remarks.
He’s trying to insult me, but the words have no effect on me whatsoever. I say nothing.
“What did he say when you told him the joyous news?” he seethes.
Beneath the mocking tone, I can sense the curiosity… and the insecurity. But before I can tell him to mind his own fucking business, the door to the warehouse is pulled open with a loud creak that makes the roof above us shiver.
“Sir?”
“What the fuck is it now?” Yannis barks.
“Drago Lombardi is asking to see you.”
“Drago Lombardi?” Rokiades spits, like the name tastes bad. “That son of a bitch is dead.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, sir,” the guard explains. “We vetted him. He is who he says he is.”
Rokiades turns to me with that manic glint back in his eyes. “Well, well, well… your brother seems to have nine lives, Renata,” he says. “How about we go see which life he’s on now?”