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“Azarro just arrived, I think, and the La Paglias arrived with Rossi.”

“Have you had a word?”

“Nah, Elio wasn’t…responsive. So I thought I better wait for you.”

I turn to speak to my other brother, but a dancer has crawled backwards across the table towards him and he has her pussy in his face. He isn’t touching her, yet.

“Sorry to interrupt the heart-to-heart you’re having,” I nod at the bare cunt. “Are you going to do something about Stefan Rossi starting a pissing contest in your club?”

“Where?” He asks, not looking at me.

“I suspect it is difficult for you to see past the pussy in your face, brother. Next to the stage.” I indicate with my glass.

“They’re not causing trouble,” he shrugs.

“Yet, Elio.” I whisper in his ear so that no one else hears, “We can’t afford to look weak for a second. Stefan is acting up to prove he can get away with it. He has a capo with him - Azarro - and a few other men from theFamiglia.”

“So you sort it then, boss,” he grins and smacks the dancer’s arse so hard that her skin ripples.

“We’ll discuss this later,” I hiss at him, suppressing all the things I want to scream at him.

Matty and I move across the floor slowly, chatting to patrons and staff we know. We watch the men grow more raucous. They want attention and they’ll do something to get it eventually.

“Let’s head this off before it kicks off,” I mutter to Matty and he shadows me as I swagger over to Rossi’s table.

“Stefan. How nice to see you contributing to our takings for the evening,” my tone is flat, and my face stoney. “Azarro,” I nod at him and run my eyes over the other men in the group.

“Did you draw the short straw, Giovanna,” Stefan pulls a face of faux sympathy.

“And have to come and talk to you? No, Stefan, it is always a pleasure.”

“No,” he laughs and clicks his tongue. “Did you draw the short straw and have to babysit bad boy Elio? The Don that parties harder than he works.”

“Watch your mouth, Stefan. You’re not in Melbourne anymore,” I snap.

“No offence intended,” he holds his hands up.

Stefan is putting on a show and a tendril of panic curls up my spine as I worry if I might just be playing straight into his hands. He wants to make us look like a joke. He wants all of the capos to see him as the strong alternative to a foolish and disinterested Elio.

“No more games,” I bark.

I need to step this up a notch. I can’t make Elio look better right now, but I can scare the shit out of anyone who is thinking about switching allegiances.

“It is time for you to go home,” I step closer to him.

He is just a couple of inches taller than me so I’m able to maintain some physical authority.

“Then you have two choices tomorrow. 1. You fuck off back to Melbourne or 2. You present yourself at 10 am to apologise to our family for the disrespectful, trouble-making snaking around you’ve been up to and fall the fuck in line. There is a third option, of course, and I promise you if you keep fucking with me I’ll happily fire the bullet myself.”

“This is all a bit of an overreaction, G -” he sneers.

“That’s Giovanna to you, thanks,” I interject.

“Giiiiiooooooovvvvaaaaaaannnnnaaaaaa,” he elongates the pronunciation of my name. “I’m just here enjoying a few drinks with some friends. Why all the hostility?”

Nope. I will not play his game. He won’t get me to justify myself.

“Leave now or I’ll have you removed,” none of the emotion bubbling away in my gut is detectable in my deadpan voice. Matty and Bluey, flanking me, have been joined by several other members of the Famiglia behind us. The show of strength settles my nerves.