Page 38 of High Stakes

“Alright, introductions are done,” Leone says curtly, ready to leave the kitchen. But I’m struck by how warm and inviting Virginia—Gina—is.

Vittorio mutters something under his breath as he watches his son leave, but Gina just smiles sadly.

“Let him go. He’ll come around eventually,” she says, her voice filled with hope as she looks at her husband.

“Can I help you with anything?” I offer, feeling guilty for the tension between Leone and his mother.

“Fallon!” Leone’s voice booms from down the hall. “Now!”

“Go, dear. It’s not worth getting in trouble over,” Gina tells me, her eyes understanding.

As I reluctantly follow Leone’s command, he grabs my arm and yanks me forcefully back down the hall.

“Been here five minutes and you’ve already broken two rules!” he snaps angrily, his grip bruising.

“Leone, calm down,” Vittorio interjects, trying to diffuse the situation. “She was just being polite.”

“Polite?” Leone scoffs, glaring at his father. “I don’t even want to be here! She obeys my rules, or we’re leaving.”

Vittorio backs off, clearly not wanting to escalate things further. Leone shoves me toward Milo, who catches me.

“Man, I need a smoke already,” I mutter under my breath, feeling the tension rise in the room. Vittorio hears me, and to my surprise, he nods toward the patio.

“You can smoke on the patio,” he says. I can’t help but stare at him, shocked by his sudden niceness. Milo notices my hesitation and gently guides me outside to the patio area, giving me a reassuring smile.

As I light up my cigarette, trying to calm my nerves, Milo is called away by another guard. It seems they’re old friends, and they soon become engrossed in conversation. I take a seat on the garden wall, enjoying the quiet for a moment, when Vittorio joins me. He waves off my attempt to put out my smoke, lighting one of his own instead.

“Leone and Gina don’t get along?” I ask tentatively, watching him exhale a cloud of smoke.

Vittorio nods slowly, his eyes filled with sorrow. “He doesn’t believe she’s sober, but she is this time.”

“Where is Leone now?” I inquire, curious about his absence.

“Stalked off to the gym,” Vittorio replies with a sigh, clearly disappointed in his son’s behavior. We finish our cigarettes in silence, and as we head back inside, Milo rejoins us.

Upon entering the dining room, I see dinner is already being set out. Despite Milo’s attempts to stop me, I move to help Gina with the preparations. I slap his hands away, determination flaring within me.

“Back off, Milo. I’m helping,” I state firmly, earning a nod of approval from Gina as we work together to set the table and bring out the food.

The tension in the dining room is palpable as we sit for dinner, the silence heavy with unspoken words. I can’t help but notice how Leone pointedly ignores his mother every time shetries to engage him in conversation. It breaks my heart to see the hurt in Gina’s eyes, so I do my best to keep the conversation going with her.

“Your cooking is amazing, Gina,” I compliment her genuinely. “I haven’t had a meal this good in ages.”

“Thank you, dear,” she replies with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

As we finish dinner, Vittorio suggests moving to the parlor to play cards while dessert is being prepared. I offer to help Gina, but Leone shoots me a glare which leaves no room for argument. Reluctantly, I follow the others into the parlor, where the men start playing poker. I watch from the sidelines, feeling slightly out of place.

As the poker game intensifies, a nagging pressure in my lower abdomen forces me to break my laser-focused concentration. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, feeling the urge to use the bathroom becoming more and more pressing.

“Excuse me,” I interrupt, my voice slicing through the tension like a knife. All eyes turn toward me, and I feel a rush of heat creep up my neck at the sudden attention. “I need to…uh,” I pause, glancing around nervously before finally finishing my sentence. “Use the restroom.”

Vittorio’s stern face softens slightly as he nods toward a dimly lit hallway on our right. “Down the hall,” he instructs gruffly, his hand indicating the hall. “Third door past the kitchen,” he tells me.

Leone’s sharp intake of breath is loud as he starts to protest, but Vittorio cuts him off. “Leone,” Vittorio’s voice rings out like a gunshot in the tense silence following my interruption. “She won’t attempt any foolish escape attempts. Not with our men stationed at every exit and surveillance cameras everywhere.”

The rebuke silences Leone instantly; his dark eyes flash with barely restrained irritation at his father’s words. As I rise frommy chair and make my way down the hall, I can feel Leone’s gaze burning into my back.

As I pass the kitchen, I overhear Lorenzo on the phone then overhear him tell Gina he needs to head upstairs to help a security guard who’s locked himself on the roof. “I’ll be only a few minutes.”

---