"A McLaren?" she asked, hand glossing over the slick blue paint. "You bought a supercar and didn't even tell me? What kind of shit is that?"
Dante shrugged as she spread out across the hood, hugging the damn thing, squishing her stomach against it. "You didn't ask."
"He's driving that sport's car," Genna said, making a face as her voice dropped into a low, mocking tone. "Flashy fucker. How stupid can he get?"
Dante's brow furrowed. "What?"
"That's what you said about Matty," Genna said. "Those were pretty much your exact words. So excuse me for never in a million years imagining when you bought a new car, it would be this."
"My father's a good salesman," Gabriella chimed in, slipping around in front of Dante, her back pressed to his chest as she leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her from behind. "He can talk anyone into anything."
"He can sell me one of these babies," Genna said, standing up straight as someone exited the building, a smile lighting up her face. Dante didn't have to look to know it would be Matteo. Hell, he didn't want to look, so he didn't. He stared straight ahead at his sister, trying damn hard to ignore the guy's presence. "Matty, how much money do we have?"
"Not enough for one of those," Matteo said, his voice quiet, marked with a light laugh. "Besides, no place in there for a car seat."
"Uh, yeah there is." Genna motioned toward the passenger side. "You can take the subway. Me and little sugar cube here are riding in style."
"Anything for you," Matteo mumbled as a phone rang, the generic brand of chirping causing Dante's eyes to unwittingly drift right to it. Matteo pulled out a phone. A burner phone, Dante knew right away. Matteo answered the call, turning so his back faced Dante. "Hey, we're over by Gabby's apartment. You know where she's living? See you in a second."
Dante's back stiffened, his grip on Gabriella tightening enough for her to take notice. Brow furrowing, she glanced back at him but said nothing. Dante was grateful for it, considering he had no explanation. Despite everything he knew logically, the Barsanti skepticism still rooted deep within him.
Matteo's gaze swept around them before settling across the street. Dante cautiously looked that way, groaning. Gavin.
Gavin jogged over, flashing a smile at Matteo before looking at Dante. He approached, staring at him like he had something to say, but he averted his gaze at the last second, his attention going to Genna instead. "Well, if it isn't Genna with a G, my favorite person."
Genna tensed as she grumbled, "Son of a bitch."
"My mother isn't a bitch," Gavin said, standing beside her. "She's the nicest of the Brazzi sisters."
"I like to think that title went to my mom," Matteo chimed in. "Aunt Lena is nice, but come on..."
Gavin scowled, his gaze going to Gabriella. "Gabby, back me up here."
"Uh-uh, don't even drag me into that," Gabriella said. "All I know is it's not my mom."
"I have to give it to Savina," Genna said. "She's probably the nicest person I've ever met."
"Only because you don't know my mom," Gavin said.
"I've met her."
"So? You don't know her."
"That's because she never talked to me," Genna pointed out. "She didn't look at me, either. She wasn't even very nice to me, now that I think about it."
Gavin waved that off. "You're a Galante. You guys are like the Mets around here… nobody cheers for them, but you've gotta assume, since they're here, someone out there gives a shit, right?"
"Hey!" Gabriella said. "I like the Mets."
"Yeah, and you like Galante there, too, which seriously calls into question your judgment." Gavin looked around at all of them. "Actually, you know, I'm not sure about any of you. You're all crazy, driving flashy ass cars around like you're invincible."
"Hey now," Genna said, leaning against the McLaren again. "You talk all the shit you want about us but leave the cars out of it. They're innocent."
Matteo strolled over to her, pressing his hand to her back as his gaze traveled the length of the car. "It's a beauty. Zero to sixty in what, four seconds?"
"Two-point-eight," Genna chimed in.
"And I'm guessing top speed is about 200."
"More like 218." Genna glowered at him. "Jesus Christ, Matty, you graduated from Princeton. You should know things."
Matteo laughed. "I must've slept through that class."
"Well, wake up and smell the motor oil," she said, "because this pretty blue baby is coming home with us,