Page 12 of Prince of Malice

“Yeah, sorry. Didn’t sleep too well,” I groggily respond.

“You should’ve stayed out last night. It would’ve tired you out, and you would’ve slept fine,” he pesters.

“I’m fine. It probably wouldn’t have changed much either way.”

“Don’t tell me you were kept up all night thinking about that guy,” Emilio groans.

“No, of course not,” I lie. “Just family stress.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, man. You want to talk about it?” “Honestly, I just want to forgetabout it all as soon as I can. Avoid all of them as much as I can, you know?” I doubt my words, but they’re not outright lies.

Emilio goes quiet beside me, letting me return to my thoughts again.

I don’t want to push Dominic away and forget about him forever, but it’s what he seems to want. It’s what’s right for both the families. So that’s what I’ll do.

After class, I keep my eyes on the ground as my feet patter quickly on the stone walkways that divide the campus into its many different quadrants, taking quick turns and shortcuts as I make my way to my dorm. This way, I shouldn’t see Dominic and he shouldn’t see me.

I hop across a grass partition between the paths and continue onward, my pace only getting faster with every step. I cut close to the college’s full parking lot, seeing all of the students flee the scene of their final classes, desperate to get away.

“Luca!” a voice calls out for me, halting me in place.

I scan the surrounding area frantically, looking for the voice’s owner, praying that it doesn’t belong tohim.

“Luca!” it calls once more, and this time I’m better able to track down its origin. I spot my father standing beside his car, his arms clasped neatly in front of him and his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back. I can just barely catch a glimpse of his personal driver waiting at the ready in the front cabin. This is a business call.

I rush toward him. “Dad? What are you doing here?” I ask, terrified of what the answer may be.

“Get in the car,” he directs, his voice still and ice cold.

“What’s happened?” I push back slightly, trying my best to stand up straight to match his stature.

“I said get in the car. Then I’ll explain.”

The car's interior is sleek in its design, not a single thing unnecessary or inconvenient in either size or location. The privacy glass is pitch black, masking the conversation andleaving the driver completely in the dark. My father sits parallel with me in the fine leather seats, and he finally lets himself go, sprawling out slightly.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?” I ask yet again.

He reaches out and grabs a freshly poured glass tumbler, taking a deep swig of whiskey from it. “You’re being impatient,” he scolds. “I thought you’d be ready for this kind of thing by now, but it’s never right to rush business. So perhaps I need to reconsider?”

His words are meant to taunt, but nonetheless, he said he thinks I’m ready. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I can just tell that this is important.”

“And what gave you that impression?” His eyes are already examining me for my answer.

“Well…” I pause. I must get this right. “You spoke before at the wedding about maintaining the Valenti image, as well as concerns about future enemies.” I ensure my words are precisely what I intend. “That as well as you coming to get me with no warning and making sure we only talk once inthe car. All of this backs the idea that this is an important and serious meeting, not just a family visit.”

He listens intently, taking another sip of his drink. Anxiety pulses through my veins, and each additional second feels like my head’s going to explode.

Dad finishes and places down his drink, taking yet another moment of pause. “Well done. You’re not too far off.” He smiles.

Relief floods through my body in an instant.

“Do you recall the Greco family?”

Every part of this conversation feels like a test. “We had some problems with them before the Rossis, right?”“That’s right, we did. And they’ve been keeping their distance for some time now, but now it seems like that interval was spent planning.” He sucks his teeth. “Because ever since the news got out about the wedding, they’ve been having talks and making small plays.”

“What have they done?” I try my best not to sound nervous, forcing my voice not to shake.

“Well, Antonio Greco is pushing his empire further by the day. He’s squeezing us outof everything we do.” There’s venom on his tongue.

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