Page 7 of The Boss

Luna

“Evil itself? You’re not usually so dramatic.” Zeno chuckles at me.

“Dramatic? Dramatic! It’s Skulls Quinn! Do you even know his first name? Because I couldn’t find it listed anywhere. Just the disgusting nickname, that’s what everyone calls him. Because he has a thing for heads, did you know that?”

“I’ve heard, yeah.”

“Decapitations, snapping necks, bashing brains in, cutting them open.” Zeno winces and nods in recognition. “My husband-to-be is called Skulls!”

“Pretty sure they just call him Boss, like in every other family.”

“Z!” I shove him away from me on the sidewalk. We normally go to a restaurant for lunch but this time I need to walk and talk. Well, maybe this is a little morehaving a mental breakdownthan it is walking and talking.

“Okay, okay, geez.” He recovers and comes back to my side without spilling a drop of his coffee. “I mean, what do you want me to say, Lu?”

“That my father has lost his mind and we have to stop him.” I say into my own coffee.

“No one stops your father, you know that. Plus, you said the papers have been signed. To go back now would be detrimental for us.”

“Us? Whose side are you even on, asshole?”

“The side that still has to live and work closely with your papa when you’re long gone in a month. Face it, Lu, this is good for our family. We partner with the Irish, we get better access to Boston which leads us to Toronto, opening up all of Canada. More routes and deliveries means more connections, power, money. Your father knows what he’s doing.”

I sneer up at him, “I know I liked this side of you when I was planning to be your boss but it’s pretty disgusting in this new light. I mean, he’s not here to hear you blab on and on about his greatness, get a grip. And by get a grip I mean focus on me, please!”

“Fine,” he tilts his head, “then think about this. At least you have been training all these years, if you have to fight Quinn off or escape or—”

“Kill him.”

“Lu,” my older cousin scolds me.

“What? I might have to!”

He nudges his shoulder into mine. “You’re great at the range. A total beast with knives and targets but, thankfully, you’ve never actually killed anyone. And I hope it never comes to that.”

I start to argue but the haunted look on his face stops me. Zeno, like all made men, has killed many times and, clearly, it’s affected him. Because he’s not a cold, lifeless madman like my fiancé.

“Ugh. I’m going to throw up again,” I say as I toss my half-full coffee into a public trash can.

“You just found out about this yesterday, give yourself some time.”

“What’s time going to do?” I ask him even though I know there’s no real answer for me.

He stops walking and offers a small smile. “Hey,” I meet his eyes and he goes on, “You’re Luna fucking Mancini. You’ll get your head around this. Figure out a way to use this to your advantage,” he turns and starts walking with a shrug, “and like I said, you are a pretty good shot.”

“Damn right I am.”

“What’s Ellie say?”

I sigh, “I haven’t called her yet.” He frowns at me so I add, “I know, I know, she’s innocent and I’m a tin-hat conspiracy theorist. I’ll call her later today. But,” I stop this time and he pauses with me. “Think about it. Surely Papa came up with this marriage to solidify the truce between us, to make Sk—ugh, I can’t say that name again—to makemy betrothedput his money where his mouth is and confirm that the Irish weren’t the ones behind Elio and the kidnapping. Like, aif you’re not against us, then marry us, put that shit in writingsort of thing.”

Zeno nods slowly. “Yeah.”

“And externally it looks like even if they made Elio their fall guy, the Irish never wanted to take us down, they wanted to become our partner. Both families come off equally, both looking pretty good.”

My cousin raises his brows. “You really would make a good don, Lu.”

I sigh. “I know. The only nagging question is, why then would Quinn demand my dowry and our help with the Russians in New York. That makes the scales unbalanced. Which tells me my working theory was wrong.”