Page 97 of The Deal

“You’re sick.”

“Obviously, I’m in the hospital.”

We both crack up, which has him clutching his side again. That pretty much sums up our relationship. We have plenty of differences and rarely see eye to eye anymore, but we never stay mad at each other for long. He’s family … all I have left, and that trumps everything.

“So when am I going to meet my future sister-in-law?”

“After that comment about her mum? I’m guessing never.”

I press the fob on my keychain, opening one of the garage doors, and slowly guide my Maserati inside. Even though I’m often chauffeured around, I still enjoy taking one of my luxury cars for a spin now and then.

This afternoon, I met with the priest who will officiate my father’s service next week. Papa’s final wish was to be buried beside my mother in Griffith. Although we’ll hold the church service here in Sydney so Dante can be present, I’ll fly back the following day for a private burial.

It’s unconventional, I know, but the best I could dounder the circumstances. Dante’s doctor said he isn’t fit enough to travel such a long distance right now, and it is essential to us both that he gets to pay his last respects to our father.

My dad was a popular and well-respected man within his circle, who would’ve wanted and probably deserved an elaborate send-off. However, he won’t be getting one. I’ve kept the information a secret because keeping my loved ones safe is more important.

I have organised a memorial service to be held in my home town later next week. To honour not just my father, but his men who died right alongside him.

I’m technically the head of the family now, so even if I’m bending the rules, I couldn’t care less. Next week will mark my first and last duties as the new don of the Mancini family. If my brother decides to pick up where things left off once he’s well again, there’s nothing I can do to stop him. I hope he has a change of heart before then, though.

As I exit the eight-car garage via the side door and approach the house, I greet one of my guards as I pass. “Where’s Nico?” I ask, noticing that the limousine was not parked out front in its usual place.

“He’s been gone all day.”

“Since he left this morning to take Mrs Carmichael to church?”

“Yes.”

“And Miss Carmichael?”

“Is inside with your son. Marco has not let her out of his sight as you instructed.”

My stomach churns as I stalk towards the house. I trusted Lina to go out today unchaperoned because I thought I could. Have I made a mistake in doing so, or has something more sinister happened?

I pull out my phone and text Nico.

Me:Where are you?

Nico: At that rehab place … the one we took that guy to?

Me: That guy?

Nico: Yeah, you know the one.

I can only presume he’s talking about Chloe’s father, Theo.

Me: Why are you there?

Nico: She asked me to take her after church. Since you gave me no restrictions on this one, I didn’t think there was an issue.

Me: This one?

Nico: When I take the other one out, you always give me a list of things I can and can’t do.

Me: The other one?

What the fuck. Why have I never noticed his vagueness until now? I know exactly who he’s referring to in every instance, but does he not know their names? Or is he being deliberately obtuse?

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