Page 77 of Jordan

I find Dario at the back table, the one reserved for families only, his bodyguard, Lewie, standing beside him. He and Rocco step off to the side once I take my seat.

“Nice of you to be on time,” Dario says. I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a joke or an insult.

“I’m always on time.”

Dario is a pudgy man with thin, light brown hair and rosy cheeks. As a boy, he was probably doted on by his mother way too much, telling him he was adorable and perfect like a cherub. Too bad he grew into someone resembling an Oompa Loompa.

“Right. It’s the other brother who’s late. Marco. The funny one.” Dario chuckles, but I don’t find him funny.

“You’re being rather bold today, Dario,” I say stiffly.

“What can I say? I’m in a good mood.” His smirk is too cocky for his own good. He’s up to something.

“In a good mood, even though your son fucked everything up with Matteo Delise?” I lean forward as he frowns. In a lower voice, I add, “Should’ve taught your boy to keep his dick in his pants.”

If he wants to play like this, I can play like this.

Dario is a moron. A little younger than my father, his son a lot younger than me. The man has tried for years to build his family to success, like the Bramantes or the Gaetanos, but it’ll never happen. Not with the way he got his wife killed and never took another. Dario has one son, and couldn’t be trusted to handle a dog, never mind a mafia family.

“My son hasn’t done anything all the rest of us don’t do. You’ll see soon enough. Your wife’s pussy won’t cut it, and you’ll find it elsewhere.” Dario’s cheeks are redder than usual.

“We’ll see.”

“Speaking off; how is the little dove?”

“Just wonderful.” I smile, not wanting him to know that just him thinking about her makes me want to put a bullet through his head.

“I bet she is. Tight little pussy, am I right? She’d only lost her virginity about a year ago. From what I hear, her and my son didn’t fuck often, so you practically have a virgin on your hands.”

I blink slowly, keeping my anger in check. Killing him right now will only cause problems, so I shouldn’t do that. I want to. Fuck, do I want to. But I won’t.

“Because that’s my concern. I’m not a teenager, Dario. I don’t give a fuck about virgins.”

The waitress stops at the table and gives us each a glass of scotch to. I pick mine up and sip it immediately. Dario ignores his.

“Anything to eat?” she asks politely.

“No,” I say.

“I’m all set,” Dario responds, keeping his hard gaze on me.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” she says before walking away.

“What exactly is the problem, Dario? Why are we here?”

Of course it was me who called this meeting, but if I hadn’t, he would have. We both know things aren’t sitting right between us. He’s made that known.

He nods his head. “I’m not comfortable with our deal anymore.”

I huff out a laugh. “Well, that’s too fucking bad. It’s done.”

“You’re right, Vincenzo. It is done. However, there have been some recent concerns.”

“Concerns?”

He nods. “The girl was engaged to my son for a while. Our families were close. I worry about her. I don’t think she’s in the right hands.”

That’s a load of shit if I’ve ever heard one, but I don’t call him on it.