“Sorry if your brothers and I aren’t at the point of comparing the length of our penises!” Zane defends, his tone turning into a growl.
I decide to ignore and shudder as the mental image I’m granted is one I’d rather not see. “Ew,” I utter and turn away from him to approach the double door freezer. I throw the doors open and simply grin to myself. “Want some ice cream to try and melt that anger?” I ask, still facing the freezer as I pull the drawer. “Or are you sulking too much?”
“I’m about to go out on some job for Costello with Enzo and Carlo,” he tells me, declining gently. This will be the fifth time they’ve liaised with Costello and it still hasn’t gotten easier. Before it was just stupid jobs – getting money, sending a threat, seeing a delivery and shipment of sorts. Now, they’re going on a heist. How am I ever supposed to be at ease with that?!
“Ah, that,” I mutter and turn back, forgetting about the ice cream. If anything, I need wine or strong liquor for this. “Is it wise to go?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Zane asks me, incredulity hanging from his every word. “I’m still proving myself in this life, and I won’t be backing down easily. If this sort of thing what I have to do for now, so be it.”
“How angry was Gio over it?” I ask, casually aware of the storm that ripped through the house just after Costello had called my father as part of a deal.
“He wants blood,” Zane mutters mirthless, offering a chuckle of the same caliber. “Preferably mine. He hates how Costello has thrown him aside for me, but hey, at least I can offer some penance to that asshole of a brother of yours.”
“It won’t end well,” I dare to say, opting for the wine option of my diet for the evening. I quickly open the bottle and fill a glass, preparing for it to calm my nerves.
“Don’t fret so much, Amelia. He’s just getting a little dose of karma. I’m sure he’ll cope with it,” Zane comments coolly. He looks so calm and at peace with the fact he’s about to face his biggest job.
He may have successfully infiltrated the treat we hold by showing he’s an alpha with a will to do harm, but how will he cope when he’s faced with a roomful of brutes who Costello wants dead who will go down with all guns blazing?
It’s a dead man walking job.
And as if that wasn’t enough, I’m panicking at the fact that Giovanni is now being neglected from duties in favor of the new boy. Zane says he’ll cope, but I think otherwise.
I’m sure Gio won’t cope, my thoughts speak, caressing my doubts. I know Giovanni. I have grown up alongside him, watched him eat, sleep, breathe this life, and welcome it with such adoration that he, himself, has become a watcher of death. He’s the devil’s advocate and the grim reaper’s protégé all rolled into one. He won’t pay kindly to being left to sit on a sideline while everyone else has all the fun.
Hearing the approach of voices, Zane hops down from his stool.
“There aren’t shortcuts in doing the right thing,” he announces, gives me a wink just as Enzo and Carlo enter the kitchen.
“Guess it’s time to go?” I ask, Enzo giving me a head nod. I feel a pang of doubt ripple coldly to life in the pit of my stomach. “Well then, you better get going. Don’t go bringing down half of Manhattan with you,” I warn, albeit sarcastically.
“See you later, Lia,” Enzo remarks, noticing my tone with him. “Don’t stay up too late; we have a big day tomorrow.”
I pout at his will to smother me with brotherly love and just hold my glass of wine up to him as the three of them leave the kitchen. Once I see them disappear from view, I top my glass off and head for the patio. It’s a warm July evening, and I intend to get merry and strive to forget what they’re up to.
As I sit myself down and look out at the backyard, the sun beginning to set, dusk settling in across the acres of land we live among, I realize how small I feel in this world. I used to feel like a big fish in a little pond, where everyone would bow down to me and I would have an effect. Now, I feel the opposite. I’m a little fish in a big pond and I’m about ready to be eaten alive. All of my charms and attributes no longer seem as powerful, nor do they bring about fear. Instead, I feel like everyone knows of me as the fallen one, the one who couldn’t do the job, the fickle one.
This has me wanting to run. The thought of failure is a heavy sin to carry and I’m burdened with it every day that Zane is here – he’s the one who beat Amelia Abbiati. Even as my love for him grows strong and I thank every day that I didn’t have to go through with my task, it still brings about my defamation. It’s all so bittersweet. I know, as I’m sure my father does, the feeling would diminish the moment I’m free of this house, this life, this family. But that is all wishful thinking.