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Mikey looked a second away from passing out, so I took his arm and began towing him toward the office. I saw one of Vito’s friends step forward, but Vito held up his hand and said a few words in Italian. Then he trailed after us.
“We’ll be right back!” I said to the men standing around as we passed. “Have a glass of wine while you wait.”
We all went into the hallway. Mikey’s office door was open, so I nudged my brother through. When Vito was inside, I closed the door behind me. Mikey crossed to the other side of the room and raked his hands through his hair, while Vito leaned against the wall, casual as could be.
“Okay,” I said, pressing my palms together. “Vito, what’s going on? Are you here to see me again, or are you here to see my brother? Either way,why?”
“Did you two hook up?” Mikey rounded on me, his eyebrows lifted high.
“Yes, not that it’s any of your business. Now tell me how you know Vito.”
“May I speak?”
Vito’s smooth voice cut through the room, commanding attention, and Mikey paled. I faced Vito. “Please. Because I would really love some answers.”
Vito slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. “Your brother and I played poker on Sunday night.”
Oh. My body relaxed. This wasn’t about me, thank God. “And you guys became buddies or something?”
“Not quite.” Vito paused, his cool gaze flicking between Mikey and me. “The game went on for hours. Your brother lost.”
This was weird. My brother liked to bet on games through the sports betting apps. But he wasn’t a serious gambler. Did the casino lure him into a game? It wouldn’t matter because we didn’t have any money. The winery was barely in the black and my parents hadn’t left us much when they died. What had my brother gambled with, his good looks?
I was about to make the joke aloud, but the words died on my tongue. The somber mood in the room, combined with Mikey’s silence, told me something was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.
I swallowed. “How much did you lose, Mikey?”
“Maggie, god.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “You don’t understand. I had astraight flush. Do you know how hard it is to beat a straight flush? It’s almost impossible!”
“But not impossible,” Vito said.
“Wait.” I clasped my fingers together and prayed for patience. “So you lost.” I glanced at Vito. “To you.”
Vito inclined his head once. “I also had a straight flush, queen high.”
The pieces began to fall into place. Mikey’s weird mood. Casino. Poker. Bodyguards. “So, what? You came here to collect?”
“In a way.” Vito paused. “Would you like to finish the rest, Michael?”
The skin of my brother’s neck turned a dull red and I could see sweat forming at his hairline. I had a terrible premonition in the pit of my stomach. I edged closer to my brother and lowered my voice. “Mikey, tell me. How much did you lose?”
His eyes were wild, panic etched in the lines of his twenty-six-year-old face. “I didn’t mean to, I swear.”
“How much?”
He opened his mouth once, then closed it. His whole body trembled, so I grabbed his shoulders. “How much?” I snapped.
“All of it,” he blurted. “Everything. I-I bet everything we have and then some.”
Suddenly, it felt as if a boulder pressed down on my chest. “What does that mean?” I wheezed. “All of what?”
Mikey’s eyes welled up, moisture pooling on his lashes, and he shook his head. “I can’t say it.”
“What he is trying to tell you,” Vito interjected evenly, “is that he has lost your winery. To me.”
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