Page 28 of Bellini Born

When he turned his head in my direction, the shit-eating grin on his face said it all. I’d given myself away with that show of possessiveness.

“Down, boy. I was only being polite.”

I let out an unimpressed grunt.

Summer looked between the two of us. “Brothers?”

“Cousins,” Enzo supplied.

“Strong gene pool,” she remarked.

She wasn’t wrong there. Enzo and I bore a closer resemblance than I shared with my brother. But Enzo was the darker, more dangerous version, with his buzzed black hair, scruff lining his jaw, and tattoos marking most of his visible skin.

“Our fathers were identical twins,” I explained.

“Ah.” Her chin lifted. “That makes more sense.”

Enzo offered Summer his elbow. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”

Fucker would be lucky if I didn’t snap his neck when he returned.

Peeking over her shoulder, Summer timidly said, “Bye.”

“Until tomorrow,” I replied.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Hours later, Enzo returned to find me reclined on the couch inside my office, a sleeping Serafina sprawled across my chest.

Latching the door behind him, he leaned against it with a knowing smirk. “Wanna talk about how the lifeguard became the nanny?”

I narrowed my eyes at my brother’s second, who, by default, had become mine when I was left in charge. “What I want to talk about is what you were able to dig up on Dante.”

He jerked his chin toward the slumbering infant. “It’ll keep until you get her down for the night.”

“She’s fine where she is.” My lips dusted over the dark hair at the top of Serafina’s head.

In the weeks following Bianca’s near-drowning, I’d kept the promise I made to Allegra that day. The girls were back to beingthe center of my universe—when I wasn’t knee-deep in mafia bullshit—and I was eight months behind on baby cuddles.

Enzo nodded. “Eh, not like she’s gonna tell anyone anyway.”

He sauntered closer, dropping onto the couch with a sigh.

“Nico did a deep dive into Dante’s finances, and as far as he can tell, only a fraction of the money went into his accounts.”

“How much?” I pressed.

“Hundred grand, which he used to get his mother out of the country. He was stupid enough to steal from us in the first place but not dumb enough to think he wouldn’t get caught eventually.”

“And we have no idea where the other six hundred grand went?”

Dropping his head back on the cushions, Enzo shook his head. “Casino runs on cash; you know that. It’s impossible to trace.”

“Fuck.” I dragged a hand down my face. “If he didn’t keep it all for himself, that means someone else is involved.”

“Yeah,” Enzo agreed. “And after your little ‘performance’ earlier”—he shuddered, a hand moving to cover his crotch—“I had Nico investigate everyone who handles cash inside the casino. From what he could tell, no one seemed to have a higher-than-average bank balance or was hiding family members.”

Groaning, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “That means he was working with someone on the outside.”