Page 20 of Mercy in Betrayal

I nod agreeably. “It does look good.”

She shifts forward in her chair. “You never responded to my dinner invitation.”

Finally. I fold my hands on the desk. “I’m a busy man, mi sorella.”

Hurt fills her dark eyes before they flare with a temper that I’ve seen a thousand times when we were kids. I was always the brother on the receiving end of her rage; I deserved it. I hated the relationship between her and Francis and poked fun at both of them. They were twins, so their connection was to be expected, but it didn’t stop me from feeling like I never belonged. Right now, her angry eyes are focused on my hands.

“You think Luca and I aren’t busy?”

Ah, Luca. My sister expected me to sit and play nice with her boyfriend. “Vitto Marzano is still alive. Yes, Luca has taken over a majority of the Marzano enterprises, but it isn’t the same as being Don.”

Carina slides forward to sit on the edge of her seat. “You have capos for that.”

“New capos.” I remind her. They are only just settling into their roles, and I won’t abandon my men.

“I can help. Let me have something. We are famiglia, Enzo. Let me help you. We can work together.”

Famiglia. Are we? The last time I checked, I was the throwaway brother.

“This isn’t how our father wanted things,” I say.

She flinches, and I wonder what part of that hurt her.

She would do a far better job than you. I reach out and touch the varnish that covers our father’s blood.

“Fuck our father.” The level of venom in Carina’s voice surprises me, and I don’t surprise easily.

But a part of me respects her anger.

“You hear that, she said fuck you,” I whisper mentally to my father. How I wish he was here to hear his precious daughter talk about him like that. But, since we were on the topic of my father…

“Speaking of… I had to learn of our father’s death through a news article.”

“We couldn’t reach you. You know that.” Carina leans back in her seat, like that’s an excuse.

I lean forward, joining my hands tightly together. “I would have found a way to get to you, to make sure you were at the funeral.” I would have loved to see the old man being placed in the ground where he belonged with the maggots and dirt.

“I didn’t think that you would want to be there,” Carina says softly.

“Why would you say that?” Who wouldn’t want to go to their own father’s funeral? What kind of monster does she think I am?

The real monster you are. His voice mocks me.

“Because he was an asshole, Enzo. Grade A fucking asshole. Between the lies, the insults, and I mean, remember that?” More hurt and anger flash behind her eyes as she points to my ear.

My stomach clenches. I, of course, can’t see what she is pointing at, but I don’t need to see the scar behind my left ear. It runs down my neck. He gave me that mark the night Francis died. He lost his mind that night and beat me with his belt; the buckle sliced so easily into my flesh.

Uncomfortable feelings have me standing abruptly. I slowly fix my suit jacket to banish the sensation that’s building too quickly in my system. “Father was preparing me for this role. He had to be tougher on me.”

The excuse is lame and we both know it.

I never wanted you to have my empire. I’d never leave it to someone as weak as you.

“I want to call your bluff on that statement, but I see you are ready to end this conversation.” Carina stands.

Why would she stay and hash this out when she can see the monster that hides behind the desk and suit? I nod in agreement.

When she walks away, she gives a low whistle, and Baccio follows her to the door, where she pauses. She’s clutching the door handle, and I don’t know what battle she’s fighting, but I don’t need her pity. I’m ready to tell her just to leave, but she returns to the desk and withdraws an ornate cardstock invitation from her bag. She tosses it lightly to the desk, and I reach across and pick it up, turning it over.

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