Page 3 of His to Honor

Confused, I furrow my brow. That can’t be why he’s here. The boss of one of the biggest crime organizations in the country can’t have tracked me down to tell me off for not answering his wife’s phone calls.

“I meant to call her back. I’ve been busy.”

Antonio arches a skeptical eyebrow. “For five weeks?”

Has it been that long? I guess I knew that. If I’m honest, I’ve been reluctant to speak to her. We haven’t seen each other for more than a year and I worry things will be awkward between us, especially now Matteo and I aren’t friends anymore. He’s her brother-in-law so Isabella may feel her loyalty lies with him rather than me.

“I…”

Before I can come up with an excuse he’ll find acceptable, Antonio waves off my concern with an imperious flick of the wrist. “I’m not here about my wife.”

He walks past me and strolls into the room I’ve just come out of. I follow him and hover aimlessly as he looks around. “This is for my men’s wives to bring their children?”

There’s an edge to his voice that makes my heart sink. It sounds like disapproval.

“Yes.”

“And you’re planning to employ a guidance counselor, a therapist?”

“You approved my plans.” I can’t hide the desperation in my voice as I wonder if he’s going to tell me he’s changed his mind. “You said it was okay.”

Growing up in the mafia, I know how this world works. Before I even spoke to my realtor about this place, I sought permission from Antonio to go ahead with my plans. Everything was runpast Dante Parisi, his terrifying right-hand man, in advance. All the contractors I use are mafia-affiliated.

Tears prick my eyes. “I did everything right.”

“I can see that.” Antonio goes to the window and glances out at the small garden I’ve created in the parking lot. “I remember how this place looked before. You’ve done a great job.”

“So you’re not here to shut me down?”

Turning to face me, Antonio smiles tightly. “Not yet.”

Dread sweeps over me at that ominous remark. “Why are you here, Antonio?”

He exhales sharply. “Matteo.”

That catches me off guard. I thought Antonio was well aware his brother and I were no longer friends. The last I heard of Matteo, he was accompanying their sister, Olivia, to Italy. “What about him?”

“He’s been involved in an… incident.”

“Got caught banging some Italian bigwig’s wife in a public restroom, did he?”

Antonio’s lips twitch, but I can’t tell if it’s with amusement or annoyance. The man is remarkably hard to read, but I can’t imagine he approves of Matteo’s antics.

“No, there was a shooting. A girl was killed.”

“Oh, my god.” Now I feel like a complete shit for making light of it. “What happened?”

“I can’t give you details. What I can tell you is that Matteo did not pull the trigger.”

“Okay, so…”

“Why am I telling you this?” He purses his lips as I nod. “Because Matteo is having a… crisis. He refuses to leave Italy.”

“I see.” Actually, I don’t. If Antonio wants his brother to come home, surely all he has to do is issue an order. What has any of this to do with me? “So, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to go to Italy, help him resolve whatever shit he’s going through, and bring him back.”

Unable to hold in my response, I huff out a laugh. “You want me to go to Italy and drag Matteo back? Don’t you have people who’re better equipped for that sort of thing?”

---