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"So where is he?"

I shrug. "He had to leave early for some meeting."

"Oh," she slaps herself on the forehead. "I'm an idiot. Of course, the quarterly meeting." Then her gaze turns back to me. "And he left you here. Alone?" She arches a perfectly plucked eyebrow while she assesses me anew from head to toe. "He's never had any of his women stay overnight or left them alone here. No offense."

I'm not gonna lie; her words sting some, but at the same time, they're strangely reassuring. "He hasn't, eh?"

"Nope," she pops theplike a bursting bubble and scrutinizes me further. She looks as if she’s trying to make up her mind whether she should like me or not.

My right hand grabs my left elbow to have something to hold on to. "Well, the situation is slightly different."

"I’ll say," she replies dryly. "You don't look like his normal fuck toys. No offense."

I break out into loud laughter. It's either that or slap her, and I'm not going to slap a woman in her own house, no matter how rude she might be.

"What's so funny?" Guiliana wants to know, and her expression portrays her confusion.

"You," I laugh. "I'm sorry. But I think I like you. No offense."

A small snort and a grin spread over her face.

"I think I may like you, too." She tilts her head. "Come, let's have a drink. Where the hell is everyone?"

The meeting continueswith a few insults being exchanged and one or two threats thrown out, but otherwise, it settles into a regular board meeting.

"Where are you with your trial, Carlos?" Edoardo asks.

"The leverage I had against the judge is gone," he answers, irritated. I wait for him to look in my direction or give any other sign that he suspects I’m behind it, but he doesn't. "And Lambert is hiding in some secure building, under police protection." He fans himself despite the cool air conditioning; he's sweating as if he'd run a marathon. "I still have four of the jurors in my pocket. And Kevin Jaspar," Carlos adds confidently.

"Good. Good." Edoardo nods enthusiastically, but it doesn't escape anyone's attention that he's not offering any help. He'sbuddies with the governor and a senator, but neither has interfered in the trial.

I'm satisfied to hear that Kevin appears to be holding up his end of the bargain. But I'll make a note to send Vito by later to ensure he fully understands where his fucking loyalties lie. I don't care if he's double-dipping right now as long as he delivers the goods.

The anticipation of Carlos' utter surprise when the verdict is read makes this meeting far more intriguing. I watch him bite into a muffin and smirk.Enjoy, asshole. Your days are numbered.

"Well, that's too bad about the judge." Edoardo's eyes find mine. "You are not to interfere."

I clench my jaw. "You already told me that."

"Just ensuring you got the order."

Underneath the table, I ball my fists.One day, I'm going to punch that stupid grin off your face.

"We can't have our capos go to jail," Edoardo emphasizes.

"Wouldn't be the first," Fabrizio utters.

"Times are changing, old-timer. None ofmycapos will go to jail," Edoardo snarls.

There are a few sharp intakes of breath at the insult. Fabrizio looks pissed but bows his head. Whether in deference or to hide his eyes, burning with hate, I'm not sure. "Of course, Don Edoardo."

Murder is written on Enrico's face for the insult to his father. His brothers aren't looking too happy, either. I quickly scan the other men around the table. None of them appear particularlypleased at the moment, except for Carlos. If Edoardo keeps disrespecting us like this, I might not even have to do anything to topple the arrogant bastard off his throne.

Edoardo is barely twenty-four. His father died unexpectedly, forcing him to take charge of the entirefamilyand organization in one fell swoop. His head is filled with crazy ideas of bringing the Cosa Nostra into thetwenty-first century. It wouldn't be a bad idea if only he showed some amount of respect and had a backbone. Or even a clue on how to accomplish his grand plan, assuming he has one. All he has done so far is fan the fires of already existing internal family feuds and incite more, like Carlos’ murder of my father. For some unfathomable reason, Edoardo has convinced himself that by playing us against each other, his power will grow—right now, it looks like this might backfire.

"He deserves much worse than going to jail," I bait, because it's expected. If I don't, the others will suspect I'm up to something, which any man with a brain in his head and pride in his blood would be. I know Edoardo is having me watched, but he's also arrogant enough to believe he has me cowed.

"I paid for my transgression," Carlos states flatly, staring me in the eyes.