Page 84 of Mafia Star

“Do you have an office or a cubicle?”

“An office. Why?”

“Can we go in and talk? Otherwise, we can get back into the car.”

“Um.” I dart my eyes to my building. “We can go inside.”

It’s going to be weird having my boyfriend walk in with me. Is Carmine coming too?

“Do you need me?”

Clearly, Carmine’s wondering the same thing I am.

“No. But can you come up? I still need you to guard Beth.”

Carmine shuts my car door, and I walk between the two colossi as we enter the lobby then get onto the elevator. Carmine remains in the hallway as Marco opens the door for me. I smile at the receptionist, who eyes Marco like she wants to jump over the desk and jump his bones. Back off, Betty. My gaze bores into her until she senses me. She quickly finds something on her desk to read. Smart cookie.

Marco’s just shut the door behind us when my phone rings. I know the sound. My brother must have telepathy.

“Hey, Stevie.”

“Lizzie, what the hell’s going on? Neither Mom nor Dad are answering their phone. Chelle said she couldn’t talk. I’m getting texts left and right from people telling me the feds raided both our parents’ offices last night because of them. I saw the press conference, and I could see you even if you were mostly hidden.”

I wince. Then I put the call on speakerphone and hold my finger up to my lips.

“Stevie, remember how Marco came to get me from the club? We’ve been seeing each other ever since. I saw the way you looked at the Four Families at the reception. You know who all of them are, don’t you?”

That’s how I think of the syndicates now. I know I can’t call them all the mob or the Mafia. It’s easier to just lump them together with that title.

“Yeah.”

He’s hedging.

“Do you remember how Grandpa had that four-leaf clover on his chest?”

“Yeah.”

That one sounds like he doesn’t want to know what’s coming next. I don’t blame him.

“You know how he always said it was for Mom and our aunts? And that it was great that Mom and Dad had four kids because we each got a leaf?”

“I remember. Liz, spit it out.”

“That tattoo had nothing to do with us or Mom or anyone in our immediate family. It was about a connection he had to an organization he tried to leave in the past. Don’t say it.”

I look at Marco. I point around my office, make a sign of something small with my thumb and index finger, then point to my ear. I shrug. His expression is grim, and that’s why I wondered. He doesn’t want me saying more on the phone because he’s worried they might have bugged my office.

“Liz, what are you talking about? The O?—”

“Steve, let’s have this conversation in person. I don’t want to explain it all like this.”

“I want to know now, Liz.”

“Well, I can’t tell you. After what happened last night, I think we need to talk in person.”

There’s a long pause as I think the penny drops for him.

“Fine. When?”

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