Fidelity (Infidelity #5)

“Memories. You understand. He spends most of his time in the city.”

“Brooklyn,” Vincent said. “That’s where he belongs.”

His words twisted my already-knotted stomach.

I opened the door to the office and motioned for them to enter. “He belongs with Demetri Enterprises. It requires most of his time.”

Near the windows overlooking the pool were a leather sofa and chair. It didn’t surprise me that they both sat on the sofa. The windows were behind them with another wall of windows to their side. The door was in front of them. They knew enough about this house to know that the windows were bulletproof. Besides, ninety percent of the security on the grounds was Vincent’s men. They were as safe as babies in a cradle with their back to the window. Watching the door for whomever I had in the house was more of their concern.

“And yet there have been reports of him with a new woman. His time appears divided.”

I shrugged. “My son doesn’t share much with me.”

Vincent leaned forward. “Shame. That’s what families should do—share.” His round head rolled on his wide neck. “It’s what I did when you asked.”

I took the chair opposite them. “Thank you.”

“You were in a hurry during our call,” Vincent said, “but for family, I was happy to help. How long do you think you’ll need my men?”

The air burned my lungs with each inhale.

Quid pro quo. Did a day equal a year?

I sat tall and met his gaze. “Vincent, as I said on the phone, this is between us. Lennox isn’t involved. He’ll be here in a minute, but the debt is mine.”

Luca stood and walked to the windows facing the pool. With his back to us, he said, “I haven’t seen my cousin in years and he couldn’t meet us at the door?”

“I asked him to do me a favor.”

“You seem to be in the asking mood a lot lately.” Vincent leaned back against the sofa and unbuttoned his jacket. “Which is interesting, considering we haven’t spoken in what…? Help me remember, Oren. My memory isn’t what it was.”

“It’s been a few years.”

“A few?”

“It was after Angelina’s passing.” Hell, I couldn’t give him the exact date. Did he think I had it circled in red on a calendar in my drawer?

He nodded. “How is business? Is there a problem, a concern? Is that the reason for the added security?”

Before I could answer, Luca turned. “Who’s ill?”

Shit!

“Excuse me?”

“Eva is an excellent doctor with a sharp tongue,” Vincent said. “She has patients of her own and yet here she is in your home.”

The door opened and just as quickly shut.

“My home and welcome.”

I didn’t need to turn to know Lennox was the latest addition to our family gathering. I hadn’t had the chance to brief him about not saying the name Montague or Collins. I should have, but I didn’t expect the personal visit. I didn’t brief Lennox because if I had, he would have asked questions. Explaining the Collins connection that Vincent and I shared wasn’t on my list of things to do.

Lennox came forward, offering his hand. With a hardy shake, he greeted his family. “Vincent. Luca.”

He and Luca exchanged a prolonged stare as they shook. No matter what had happened or would in the future, having both of these young men healthy and strong and shaking hands was a blessing, one that I hoped Vincent recognized. It could have all changed one night, long ago, in Jersey.

“Lennox,” Luca said, patting Lennox’s shoulder. “Long time. Sorry about your wife.”

Lennox stood taller. “Has it been that long? Thank you. We need to catch up. How’s Gabriella?”

“She’s good. We have a son.”

“You do?” Lennox answered as he pulled a chair closer to the grouping. “Congratulations. I am out of it. What’s his name?”

“Carmine.”

Lennox and I nodded.

“How old?” I asked.

“Only six months.”

I turned to Vincent. “You’re a grandfather. Congratulations.”

“You?” he asked me as Lennox shifted in his chair.

“No.”

Vincent leaned forward. “They’re better than having your own. You can spoil them and hand them back.”

I took a deep breath, thinking of a million responses, none of which Lennox wanted to hear. As the silence grew, I said, “This has been nice. We should do it more often.”

It was total bullshit, but the pause in conversation made me uncomfortable. I was used to being the man on the other side. I made the awkward silence—I didn’t suffer through it.

Luca sat again by his father. “You were just talking about Eva’s patient. I missed the name.”

Before Lennox could speak, I jumped in. “I didn’t offer… but I should have. Her name is Chelsea, Chelsea Moore.”

I had to give my son credit. He didn’t flinch, not a sigh, or even a blink. Maybe he did understand more than I thought.

“And what happened to this Chelsea Moore?” Vincent asked.

Lennox shook his head. “She got the shit beat out of her. She’s scared to death and has the bruises to show for it.”

Both Vincent and Luca sat forward. “And you know for sure who hurt this woman?”

Lennox nodded. “I know for sure.”