prisoner.
That last one, that was a gray area.
"I have to go have a sit down with our father. Are you coming?" I asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting him to come with me. It was bad enough I had to leave her with Lucky and his charm. I didn't need Matteo there with Romy too.
It shouldn't have mattered.
She wasn't mine.
And yet...
"Oh, you know me. I can't go being a productive member of this family. Expectations will raise. I will fail to meet them. Everyone gets disappointed. It's a vicious circle."
"You got this?" I asked Lucky, tone a little harsher than it needed to be, making him pause in slicing up some spinach, giving me a long look.
"Yeah, I have it covered, boss," he said, tone a little pointed.
I should have felt bad for pulling the authority card on my cousin, one of my closest friends.
But I was in too surly a mood to care as I stormed out of there, met with my father and Leandro, comparing the notes from all the individuals we'd interacted with so far.
From there, I made my way to the docks to talk to Angelo who had isolated all the videos of shipping containers coming in from South America—in particular Venezuela—for the past several weeks.
Nothing seemed off.
All the businesses we'd imported from had been connections since my father was my age, old, trusted importers of legal goods.
"I hate to say it, but could she be fucking with us?"
My knee-jerk reaction was to say no, to insist that she had been too impassioned about her sister.
But then again, the worst criminals were very convincing with their false words.
I drove back to the rental, feeling anger bubbling up.
And instead of calling it what it truly was—desire disappointed, jealousy of my brother and best friend's charm with women in general and this one in particular—I went ahead and blew the fact that we hadn't learned anything about traffickers and containers full of women yet. I created a backstabber and liar where I wasn't sure there was one yet.
"I need to talk to you. Right now," I added after walking inside to find Lucky, Matteo, and Romy sitting at the card table playing poker using pieces of dried wagon wheel pasta as chips. "Basement," I added, yanking her chair backward, making her body lurch, her hands flying out to slap on the table instinctively.
I didn't look at my men.
I knew what I would find on their faces.
Shock.
Confusion.
Maybe a little disappointment or anger mixed in.
Romy shot me a look of pure, undiluted derision before turning back to Lucky and Matteo.
"If you'll excuse me. The warden is back. And he's in a bad mood," she added, pointedly moving out in front of me so I would have to follow her through the kitchen and down into the basement.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked as soon as we made it to the bottom, staring at each other from underneath unflattering fluorescent lights.
"Why are you lying to us?"
"Lying to you about what?" she asked, brows pinching.
"Don't act stupid. I am not going to fall for it."
"Look, I don't know what your problem is, but I can't answer your questions if you don't ask ones that make sense."
"Angelo did some digging on all the containers coming in from that corner of the world. They're all old, trusted importers, sweetheart. So let me ask again, what were you doing at our docks? Who do you work for? And don't feed us some bullshit story."
"You think I would make up a story like that about my sister?" she asked, tone hollow, hurt. "Do you have any idea how bad of karma that is? It's like calling into work because you want the day off and saying there was a death in the family. It's bad form."
"Criminals don't give a shit about bad form, Romy."
"I'm not a criminal, for God's sake. I thought we were past this. What the hell is going on today? What do you want from me?"
"What do I want from you?" I asked, tone getting low, rough.
"Yes, Luca, what the hell do you want from me?" she demanded, voice getting more heated.
I knew a thing or two about heat right at that moment.
Desire was a live wire sparking through me, little fires shooting off everywhere until the flames overtook me completely.
There was no thinking, no debating if it was right or wrong or somewhere in between.
One moment, I was three feet away from her, raging.
The next, I was closing