Page 82 of Tortured Hearts
Condescending dick.
“I can control Becca.”
At that, he sits back and steeples his fingers. “Even if we were to agree, your proposition has one catastrophic flaw. A boss’swife must be Italian, which that woman is clearly not. It’sLa Cosa Nostrarule.”
I’m tired of swinging from a lower level, so pushing off the wall, I saunter over to the desk and pour myself a drink. “I know. I’m asking the Authority to make an exception.”
“You seem to be doing a lot of that,” he says, watching me lift the glass to my mouth with hawk-like precision. “What makes you think she’d marry you?”
“She won’t have a choice.”
“Outsiders aren’t loyal.”
“She will be.”
Projecting his same unaffected apathy, I drink my whiskey and wait out his silence. But the longer it drags on, the more my shield cracks. Just when I’m about to draw my gun and do something incredibly stupid, Toscano exhales a heavy breath.
“She’d better be, or I’ll see to it she won’t betray anyone ever again. She knows a lot of information, Gianni. That’s the type of loose end we never leave uncut.”
Because she’s an in-road the FBI can manipulate.
Like me.
“All the more reason to marry her and make her an accessory instead of an informant.”
“Your heirs won’t be eligible to lead.”
It’s an un-ironic statement delivered with zero expression…
And it knocks the breath out of me.
I’ve been so focused on getting past point A, that I never considered making it to point B. If I put a ring on Becca’s finger to protect her from the very organization she’s running from, there’s no path to divorce. The Authority will keep a close eye on both of us, and eventually, she’ll be expected to give me a son. Every sharp edge of me tightens at the thoughtof Becca’s belly swollen with my child.
I clear my throat. “If you have the power to change two rules, you have the power to change three.”
His laugh is low and lethal. “You’re a greedy motherfucker; you know that?”
I flash my teeth. “Aren’t all good bosses?”
Cursing, Toscano grabs the whiskey bottle and fills my father’s abandoned glass to the rim. He downs half the drink before slamming it onto the desk. “My agreement to this has a price.”
I figured as much.
“All right,” I say, gesturing my glass toward him. “Let’s hear it.”
“No. This deal hinges on blind faith, something it’s obvious you lack. If I allow an outsider into the family, it’ll be in exchange for a favor revealed at a later date.”
In any other situation, I’d tell him where he could shove his deal and walk out. No one with half a brain accepts an open-ended debt. But Becca doesn’t have time for negotiations, so I agree to something I know is going to come back and bite me in the ass.
“Fine,” I bite out between clenched teeth. “I accept the terms.”
It’s only then that his haughty exterior bleeds through that icy coating. “Know that we’ll be watching you closely, Gianni. If this new wife of yours so much as breathes in the FBI’s direction, we’ll take matters into our own hands.”
“Understood.”
“Now,” he declares, topping off both our glasses, “we need to discuss your next steps.”
I arch an eyebrow. “I don’t need hand holding, Benny. I think I’ve got this boss thing under control.” I tilt my head to where my father still lays wide-eyed andopen-mouthed. “At least more than he did.”
