Page 74 of Damon

Chapter 23: Damon

The call comes at five in the morning. My father's voice, clipped and dangerous.

"Family meeting. One hour. Come alone, don't bring the girl."

The line goes dead.

I look down at Viviana in the dark, still fast asleep on my chest. When I arrived after midnight, I’d slipped into bed beside her without a word and held her all night.

“Everything okay,” she whispers sleepily when she hears me stirring.

"Everything’s fine," I lie. "I'll be back in a few hours. Until we finish with the Verga cleanup, stay inside the house. Tommy's watching the perimeter."

I'm out the door before she can ask more questions, because I don't have answers yet. But I know what this meeting is about.

Me and Viviana.

Someone told my father about us, and now I'm going to have to explain why I've compromised everything for Roberto Bonacci's daughter.

The meeting is at Romano's, same back room where family business has been conducted for thirty years. Romano’s is always open for my family, doesn’t matter the hour. My father sits at the head of the scarred wooden table, my uncle Sal to his right. Both of them look like they haven't slept a wink all night.

"Sit," my father says without preamble.

I take the chair across from them, noting the photographs spread across the table between us. Surveillance photos. Me and Viviana at the safe house. Viviana in my arms. Both of us clearly intimate, clearly involved.

"Want to explain these?" Uncle Sal asks.

“Where did you get them?” I ask.

“One of Roberto’s men handed off an envelope to one of mine,” my father replies. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you been fucking Roberto Bonacci's daughter?"

The crude words are meant to provoke me, to make me defensive. Instead, I meet his eyes steadily.

"Since the second week."

"Jesus Christ." Uncle Sal rubs his temples. "Do you have any idea what you've done? After everything both families have gone through?"

"I've kept her alive. I've eliminated the Verga threat. I've done my job."

"Since when does your job included fucking an eighteen-year-old virgin? You seduced a girl who is no more than a child."

"I didn't seduce her. It was mutual."

"You think that makes it better?” My father asks. “That makes it worse."

He picks up one of the photos, studying it like evidence in a murder trial. "She was a virgin."

It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Yes."

"And now she's not."

"No."

"Do you understand what that means in our world?"