Page 40 of High Stakes

Gina sighs, her shoulders slumping as she admits, “I quit drinking, hoping to try to repair my relationship with Leone.”

“And you have, don’t ruin it now.” I implore Gina, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions racing through me. “I won’t have an alcoholic around my baby, and I don’t think Leone will allow it, either,” I admit.

“I doubt Leone will allow me near any baby. He hates me,” she says.

“Give it time,” I tell her gently. “Until then, focus on being sober for future grandbabies.”

She smiles sadly and nods, and I move to tip the bottle down the drain. Just then, the security guard, Lorenzo, walks in and sees the glass of vodka and the bottle.

“Wait, Lorenzo, I wasn’t drinking!” Gina protests, her voice quivering.

Lorenzo seems angry, his eyes narrowing. “I was gone for ten minutes, Gina!” He snaps at her, disbelief etched across his face.

Thinking quickly, I grab the glass. “It’s mine, not hers,” I lie, protecting Gina. “I wasn’t aware she had a drinking problem.” I apologize, trying to keep my voice steady.

Lorenzo folds his arms across his chest, eyeing me skeptically. “Really? Prove it because that’s the same shit she drinks, and it tastes like jet fuel.”

He stares at me, waiting. Reluctantly, I pick up the glass and swallow its contents. My mouth and throat burn violently, and my eyes water, but I force it down. Setting the glass down, I glare at the security guard, daring him to challenge me further.

Lorenzo stomps into the room and snatches the bottle, pouring me another glass.

“Enough, Lorenzo,” Gina says quietly, stepping between us. “Fallon has proven her point. No more.” Regardless, he pushes the glass toward me.

“Drink it,” he demands, his eyes never leaving mine.

I take the glass in my hand, my mind racing as I weigh my options. I can see the determination in Lorenzo’s eyes, and I know there’s no way out of this without causing a scene.

“Such a big drinker, go ahead.” He tells me, but I am already on the verge of puking. Taking a deep breath, I bring the glass to my lips when Lorenzo suddenly straightens, and I feel warmth at my back.

As soon as Lorenzo pushes the glass toward me, Leone comes up behind me, snatching the glass from my hand. I flinch, wondering how much trouble I am in if Leone has had to cometo look for me. Leone puts the glass to his lips, drinking all the contents in one swift motion. Lorenzo visibly stiffens, and Gina looks on the verge of crying. A second later, Vittorio appears at the door and calls Lorenzo, motioning for the man to come to him. Lorenzo obliges, and Vittorio sends him off somewhere before Leone explodes in rage.

“Do you need help with dessert, Mamma?” Leone asks Gina, his voice cold but controlled. Gina apologizes, her voice trembling as she promises she didn’t drink it. Leone says nothing, but his eyes are hard and unforgiving as he takes the Limoncello bottle from the counter.

“You want to be a part of my child’s life. You won’t drink,” Leone tells his mother, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Gina looks up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “What about yours?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Leone swallows hard, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face. “We’ll see,” is all he says, turning toward the sink and tipping the vodka down the drain.

The tension in the room is palpable as Leone finishes pouring out the bottle. Gina stands there, looking defeated, her shoulders slumped as she watches her son.

“I’m sorry, Leone,” she whispers, her voice shaky. “I really am trying.”

Leone nods curtly, his jaw clenched. “Just keep trying, Mother. That’s all I ask.”

Turning to me, he gestures toward the door. “Come on. Let’s rejoin the others.”

As we make our way back to the parlor, I can feel the weight of the night’s events pressing down on me. Leone’s anger, Gina’s despair, and the tense atmosphere between them all swirl together, creating a suffocating mix of emotions.

Reentering the parlor, we find Milo and Rocco still engrossed in their poker game. Vittorio looks up as we walk in, his eyes briefly meeting mine before shifting to Leone.

“Everything alright?” Vittorio asks, his voice steady but carrying an undertone of concern.

Leone nods, his expression unreadable. “Yes, everything’s fine,” he replies curtly, taking his seat at the table.

I sit next to Milo, who gives me a questioning look. I offer him a small, reassuring smile, trying to convey everything is under control. The rest of the evening passes in tense silence, with only the occasional clink of glasses and the shuffle of cards breaking the stillness.

As we finally prepare to leave, Gina pulls me aside, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you for everything, Fallon,” she says softly. “I know it wasn’t easy, but you helped me more than you know.”

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