Page 15 of Duke of Ruin

ELI

Istare at my phone. This could not have gone worse, and obviously Noah is angry. He knew what he was getting into, though. He knew I wasn’t going to be his boyfriend, at least not openly. So why does his iciness hurt so damn much? I could call him anyway and try to explain, but what good would that do? What would I tell him? That I really want to be with him, and even though I never can, I still want him, but I feel really bad about it? Distance is probably the best thing for both of us. I just hope that Noah has much more self-control than I do, because if he calls me I’ll pick up. I won’t be able to resist him.

This is all so fucked up. I’ve always felt a certain kind of way about the expectations of being a Carbone, but I’ve never felt this trapped. What’s the big deal anyway? Maybe I should just roll with it and see what happens. Maybe I should just tell them I’m falling in love with a man who isn’t rich and connected, a man who cares about me as a person, not just as a Carbone. I’m sure that will go over well in this world of arranged marriages and political mafia bullshit.

I realize that I’ve been staring at my phone for about twenty minutes straight. I’m hoping he’ll call me, but I’m also scared to death that he will. I toss the phone onto the nightstand in my room at the frat house. I don’t stay here often, but for some reason I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be. Well, that’s not true, but Noah’s apartment isn’t an option right now.

My phone buzzes on the table and I practically dive for it. But it’s just Sasha Moretti confirming our fucking date tomorrow night. I throw the phone back down, disgusted with myself. What kind of hapless sap have I become, sitting here staring at a fucking phone hoping he’ll call? My phone buzzes again, but this time I pointedly ignore it. I try to convince myself it’s because I don’t care, rather than I’m afraid of the disappointment of it not being Noah.

It buzzes again, a phone call this time. I finally glance over at the screen and see my uncle’s face on the caller ID.Fuck.I pick it up.

“Uncle Gianni, how are you?” I say through clenched teeth. I know better than to ignore his calls.

“I’m well, Eli. How are your classes?” he asks cordially, though we both know he doesn’t give two shits.

“They’re good. What can I do for you?” I ask, dreading the answer.

“I heard you spoke with Sasha about tomorrow night,” he says.

“Yes, I did,” I answer warily.

“Good. You two should spend more time together. I need to know that you’re a good fit before we move forward with any family negotiations,” he says.

“Of course,” I answer despite my growing nausea.

“However, that’s not why I called,” he continues, and my heart does a backflip.

“I’m listening,” I say.

“Meet me at the house in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good.” He ends the call and I take a deep breath.

I don’t know what he wants, but Idoknow that there’s a substantial deal coming through the harbor soon, and Gianni has expressed interest in me taking over some of the shipping contracts, which is something I would’ve jumped at the opportunity for only a few days ago. Now I just have a sinking feeling in my stomach. But Gianni Carbone isn’t someone I can refuse.

I get up and get dressed in a smart navy suit and tie. My father would kill me if I ever showed up to the Carbone estate in anything less formal. I glance at my phone for a second and contemplate texting Noah, but I think better of it and shove it into my pocket. I do my best to avoid everyone as I make my way out of the house. My mind is already spinning; I don’t need any more distractions.

A few minutes later I’m standing in front of both my father and my uncle at the Carbone estate. Uncle Gianni is sitting at his desk with a tumbler of scotch and a massive cigar that’s thankfully unlit. Unlike most of the men in my family, the smell of those things makes me want to vomit. My father sits in an overstuffed chair in front of him, but I wait until I’m given permission before taking a seat.

“Good to see you, son,” my father says, and I acknowledge him with a nod.

“Good man, Eli,” Uncle Gianni says in greeting. “I’m glad you made it up here.” As if I had a choice.

“Of course, uncle,” I say, keeping my voice even. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. It buzzes again. Both of them glare at me, but I continue to ignore it.

“Do you need to check that?” my uncle asks, his eyes narrowed on me.

“I’m sure it can wait. It’s probably just one of the fraternity brothers.”

“Or your friend, Noah…what was it? Andriotta?” my father says.

“Yes, that’s correct,” I answer, my pulse spiking. I wish they weren’t taking such an interest in him. It’s my fault for bringing him to not one, buttwofamily events. How could I be so stupid?

“Let’s get to why I asked you here,” Uncle Gianni says, thankfully discouraging any more questions about Noah, though my fingers itch to see if the messages are from him. As though the universe is trying to torment me, my phone buzzes again. My uncle furrows his brows, but continues. “There’s a shipment coming in from Moscow through our Greek channels, and I want you to be there to oversee it tomorrow night.”

I narrow my eyes at him. He’s already mentioned my “date” tomorrow, so I doubt he wants me to miss that.

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