“Here, here!” Zane agrees, settling down. “I’ll meet him, but if he swings any punches, I’ll hit back.”
“Dante’s approach is a little more aggressive than punches,” I mutter, trying to tease, but I’ve seen Dante approach many battles and his line of defense wasn’t to walk away after a clean fight. “I can talk him down, though. You’re one of the good guys.”
“I think Carmello would beg to differ,” Carlo scoffs, sitting down next to me. Before either Zane or I can respond, he just grabs the laptop. “That’s a nice one. I actually quite love this.”
It’s the house I had been staring at before. I had closed the tab down and I had just clicked on it to delete it when Carlo came over to me.
“But costs?” I ask, spoiling the excitement beginning to manifest among us. I don’t want to ruin the mood, but how can I not be realistic?
“Costs can be negotiated and we have financial aid,” Enzo comments, remaining unmoved by the unrelenting stress this will reap upon us. We’ve all had bids of freedom, but none of us have truly lived outside the walls of the great Abbiati mansion, except Bruno. None of us have had a chance of living our own lives. “Whatever happens we will be out of this house within the few days. Mark my words.”
“We need to look at jobs,” I remark, not remaining quite so calm and collected on the unrighteous shock we’re all going to get when we no longer work for our father or have his money supplying us all. “I don’t even know what I want to do with my life.”
“It’ll happen. It’ll be something we work toward together,” Zane mentions, taking my hand. “I’ll be going back to work. Billy’s got them believing I was on a sabbatical.” He pulls his shoulders up, mindlessly mulling over the circumstances that could lead him back to work. “It seemed apparent I needed the time after a failed relationship, the death of my mom, and then my shooting. They were all waiting for me to break down. Billy played upon that. Maybe it is good having a partner who has the inside scoop on you lot.”
“They want you back?” Bruno asks, intrigue filtering his system.
“They need me back,” Zane muses, looking a little pleased with himself. “They’ve never found my replacement, so they’ve been pestering Billy a little to find out what I’m playing at. If I’m honest, I miss it, but I will not regret coming back for Amelia.”
I feel a small blush beginning to creep up my chest, clawing up my throat to infuse a pink shade across my colorless cheeks. I never knew an importance quite like this. You can tell yourself that to one person you mean the world, but until you really are the middle of someone else’s universe, you never quite know just how it feels. That feeling of being loved, wanted, and cherished is like being delivered every star in the sky.
“Before this turns into a gushy moment, can we look back at houses?” Carlo quips, breaking the sentimental moment. “As much as I love you two loved up, I don’t think my stomach loves it as much.” He gives me a twisted grin, really teasing me. “We can discuss job plans at a later date.”
There’s a moment of deliberation and then I’m hit with a brainwave. The brilliance of the idea strikes me comical and I have no idea why I never thought of it before.
“I have an idea,” I utter, getting up from my seat.
I ignore everyone around me as I leave the room and head for the stairs. I rush up them, skipping a few steps as I go, as if it’ll hurry my pace. In actual fact, it just seems to tire my body quicker, but I know I have to fight against this bout of fatigue.
I enter my room, bypassing everything so I can get to my closest. I walk inside and seek out my safe. I punch my code in and open it. I have three items stashed in the little charcoal, fireproof box – a small amount of money, my gun, and my mother’s pearls. I snatch the money and the necklace and slam the safe shut. Hurrying myself, I head back stairs and into the great room where everyone seems to be waiting with bated breath.
“I put a little bit of money away every now and then,” I say, throwing the wad of green papers down onto the table. “I’ve never counted it, but that could help us.” I then present them with the necklace, my most prized possession. “And we can sell these,” I say, presenting them with my mother’s pearls. “They have to be worth something for Gio to have presented them at that poker game.”
“No way,” Enzo intervenes. “You’ve lost so much and given up so much already, Lia. You’re not going to give them up, too.”
“I’d rather lose them than have to continue to deal with Manuel gone,” I utter, dumping the pearls on the tabletop. “They’re barely worth anything to me in comparison.”