Page 146 of Steal My Heart

Her cheeks shade the loveliest shade of pink. “Not in front of Nola,” she whispers.

I attempt to give Nola a scratch, but still confined to the cone of shame, as Remi calls it, the cat hisses at me. “Still in the dog house with you, huh? I promise that when your new palace is complete, all will be forgiven.” Her enclosure at the weekend house is in the works as we speak.

I kiss Remi goodbye before Maks drives me across town to my brother’s Garden District house, one of our former family homes. The for sale sign in the front yard has me doing a double take.

I’m buzzed through the courtyard gate and ring the bell at the front door. My cousin answers. “Boss.”

Not for long, but I don’t correct him as he leads me to Vitto’s old office. Fabien’s seated behind the desk, and he rises when he sees me. “Little brother.”

“Big brother.”

“I’ll be in the basement.” Nic leaves us, closing the door.

I stroll across the room, taking a seat. “You’re selling the house?” Mama left Fabien this house, while she left me the weekend house. Smart move on her part. Fabien and I can’t share real estate. It’s still debatable whether we can share the same zip code.

He sits up straight behind the imposing desk. “This is Vitto Calvani’s palace, not mine.”

I nod, understanding completely. Crossing my leg at the ankle, I get down to business. “I’m ready to transfer power to you immediately.”

Fabien drums his fingers on the desk. “What’s the catch?”

“I’ll be sworn in next week as mayor, and with that position comes certain powers. Icouldrun this city in alignment with Calvani family interests. Police chief. Public works department heads. Codes. Meter readers. Top to bottom friends of the family.”

“Still waiting on the catch.” Fabien leans back in his chair.

“I will scratch your back if you scratch mine, but only if you swear to keep family business out of the public eye.”

He snorts a laugh. “I can assure you, that lesson was learned the hard way. But I swear it. What else?”

“I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder, or over Remi’s shoulder, for the rest of our lives. New Orleans is our city, and we’re not going anywhere.”

Fabien crosses his arms. “My wife and I sure as shit aren’t going anywhere.”

“Then we swear a truce with a blood oath,” I tell him, reaching in my pocket and retrieving the ceremonial knife I used to slit Vitto’s throat.

“With the understanding that if you touch Sienna again, the only blood shed will be yours and your girl’s,” Fabien menaces.

“Understood. Now you need to understand this. Threaten my future wife again, and the only blood shed will be Sienna’s. Not yours, because I’ll keep you alive to make you watch.”

“When did you grow a spine?” Fabien taunts. “And congratulations to you on your engagement; condolences to Remi. Interestingly enough, my wife mentioned knowing your fiancée.”

“Small world.” I’ll let go of this bad blood between me and Fabien, but it will be up to Remi whether she’s willing to do the same with Sienna. “So, do we have a truce?” I get us back on track.

“We have a truce,” he says.

I waste no time pricking the palm of my hand and drawing a bead of blood. Sliding the blade across the table, I wait for Fabien to prick his, and he does so.

“Truce,” we both vow, and we shake on it, bound by blood.

“What else?” He tosses the knife in the air, catching it before he slides it back across the table to me.

“Complete ownership of my restaurant and hotel belongs to me, as both of those are my personal ventures. As for our seafood company, I’ll remain a one-third owner, with you and Al.”

“No objections to any of that. And your proposed buyout for the family side of things?” he presses.

“The twenty million you bilked out of me from the hotel deal. Plus, a fifty percent cut from your monthly take of illegitimate earnings while I’m mayor, the proceeds funneled through said personal ventures. Oh, and I get to break your finger.”

Fabien throws his head back with laughter. “You still holding on to that?”