“They’re manipulative snakes,” I hiss. “They're rigging the game.”
“That’s how this world works. We don’t get attached,” my father scolds. “Maybe you’re just not built for it.”
His initial doubt felt like a punch to the face, but now he’s been pressing the bruise for days.
“What happened to loyalty?”
“I am loyal to this family. I act in our best interest and our best interest alone,” he saysin that cold lifeless tone that makes my blood boil. “You need to learn to take care of your own first.”
“If you care about your loyalty to this family, then why do you refuse to trust me?”
“You’ll have my trust when you earn it, Luca.”
I bite my tongue, knowing the words I want to say would only make this worse. If Dominic were here right now, he would hit him across the face, which might not be the best idea, but I can’t say it wouldn’t be fun to watch.
The phone on the desk begins to chime as a call comes in, splitting our attention from our fight. He answers it and listens to whoever’s on the other line for a moment before speaking.
“Is that right?” he asks the caller with a smirk on his lips. “Thank you for letting me know.” He ends the call. “That was Antonio.”
“What does he want?” I sneer.
“He just wanted to let us know that Dominic Rossi charged down to their restaurant to start a fight.” I told him not to do anything yet.
Why would he go behind my back and do that?
“What are they going to do with him?” I ask, a slight tinge of fear in my throat.
“It’s none of my concern,” he says coldly. “I don’t think we’ll be associating with him or any other Rossis for much longer.”
“Well, I’m concerned!” I yell as I storm out of the room.
17
DOMINIC
Itap my foot against the floor and sit as close as I can to the edge of my bed, waiting for Luca to turn up. All alone in my freshly tidied room, I’ve been waiting for hours for him to arrive. Checking my watch for what feels like the thousandth time, I start doubting whether or not he’ll even come.
I thought after everything we’ve been through together by now, everything we’ve done and our time together last night, we might actually have something real. Does he not feel the same? Was it all just a way to get me to leave this morning?
Just as my doubts and second-guessing start spiraling out of control, I am interrupted by firm knocks against my door. I rush up and quickly check my reflection, making sure my clothes, hair, smile, and just everything about me is in near perfect condition, even though it’ll all be messed up soon.
I fling open the door with reckless abandon and pose for my guest, looking him directly in the eye with a wry smile prepared just for him.
But it’s not Luca; it’s Angelo.
“What are you doing here?”
Angelo takes one look at me and somehow manages to piece together the whole situation. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He chuckles. “Were you waiting for someone?”
“Yes, I am,” I say, not in the mood for his usual bullshit. “So make it quick.”
“Wait a second,” he mutters. “You’re waiting for Luca, aren’t you?”
I shift awkwardly. “So what if I am?”
“Well, I think I know why you’re waiting.”
“What does that mean?”