Page 6 of Bellini Born

“Sure she is.” Sarcasm colored my words. “You’re deluded if you think she’s gonna fall into your arms after she’s spent the last three years hiding.”

“Can’t wait to watch you eat those words, little brother.”

“Still waiting for you to explain how this involves me.”

“Yeah, about that . . .” Gio grimaced. “I’m going dark.”

My eyebrows shot sky high. “Excuse me?”

“With no timeline for my return, I need to publicly pass off the mantle of Don to you.”

I choked on air. “The fuck? How long does it take to retrieve your long-lost wife, Gio? She’s one tiny woman.”

Ignoring my questions, he continued, “And we’re going to need to keep a blood sample on file for cross-referencing when I get back.”

“What the hell do we need a blood sample for?”

“To prove my identity, of course,” he said as if it should be obvious.

“Jesus,” I huffed. “What in the world are you planning?”

Gio’s face hardened, and he gritted out, “She owes me an heir, Matteo. I’m not coming back until she’s given me one.”

Clearly, he’d lost his damn mind, because whatever scheme he’d cooked up to impregnate his estranged wife would fall under the category of unhinged. It was my duty as his brother to try to talk some sense into him.

“You were married for five years before she ran. In all that time, she never once got pregnant. Did you ever stop to think that maybe she can’t? Wouldn’t it be better to just start over? Have Rory declared dead and find a new, young bride to give you an heir? Sounds like a win-win for both parties. She gets to move on, and so do you.”

The sharp crack of Gio’s palms coming down on the wood of my desk echoed throughout the office. With his jaw clenched so tight that a muscle in his cheek twitched, it was a wonder he managed to speak.

Voice low and lethal, he said. “I will not be made a fool of. Granting her mercy makes me look weak.”

Nothing I said would change his mind. He’d gone off the deep end.

Gio scoffed when I remained silent. “You wouldn’t understand. You got the pliable wife. She accepted her duty and never pushed back.”

The difference wasn’t in our wives’ temperaments because, believe me, Allegra was a hot-tempered Italian woman to the core. No, it was in how I treated her. Instead of viewing her as a means to an end—a verified broodmare meant to give me as many sons as she was able—I saw her as an ally. An arranged marriage could be isolating; you didn’t get the benefit of developing feelings before you were forced to live together. So, I went out of my way to build a friendship with my wife. We bonded over the fact that, despite having no control over thesituation, we were stuck in it together. It had made the four years of our marriage feel less like a prison sentence and more like a partnership.

“So, you’re leaving, and I’m in charge for God knows how long?” I summarized our conversation.

A rumble sounded from my brother’s chest. “Don’t act so put out. Haven’t you ever wondered what it might be like to be Don?”

Honestly? Not once.

I was more than happy being the second son. It carried less responsibility, and there was the added perk of not carrying a giant target on my back.

“I’m leaving Enzo here with you, if that’s any consolation.”

I grunted, that news only offering a small comfort. Our cousin was his second-in-command, knew the goings-on within the family and the businesses from front to back.

“Does he babysit?” I challenged.

Gio chuckled. “He’ll do whatever you tell him to. Though his talents are better used wielding a gun than a bottle.”

“Noted.”

“Well, if that’s settled.” My brother buttoned his suit jacket. “I’ve called all the capos in for a meeting tonight for the exchange of power. Be there at seven.”

“Can’t wait.” I gave him a mock salute.