Page 4 of Arranged Obsession
Chapter 2
Bianca
Adriano shuts his office door and gestures for me to sit.
I linger near the bookcases. It’s funny how this place is the total opposite of Kate’s little closet. The director of Grace House does extremely important and good work for the women of Philadelphia, but she operates on a shoestring budget and gets by on scraps.
While my brother, a vicious and brutal mafia Don, lives in absolute luxury.
Everything is polished, expensive wood, rich leather, and plush rugs. Family photos line the shelves mixed in with old books that never get read. Paintings hang on the walls, simple landscapes that would cover Grace House’s operating budget for a decade. There’s a fireplace, dead and cold now, and a drink cart near Adriano’s enormous executive desk.
He lowers himself into his big armchair and watches me. The perfect image of the powerful Don. Tattoos peek out at the edges of his collar and sleeves, and there’s not a single hair out of place.
“I’m gonna be honest,” I say, trying to smile but finding it hard. “The way you’re looking at me is freaking me out.”
Adriano’s stare doesn’t soften. He steeples his fingers in front of him. “You know I love you, right?”
My eyebrows raise. “I mean, I assumed, but I don’t think you’ve said that to me since we were kids. Did someone die?”
“Nobody died.”
“Areyoudying or something? Or, god, don’t tell me something’s going on with Lucy and Alessia?”
“My wife and my child are fine.” His lips twitch. “Would you just sit your ass down, Bianca?”
I take a chair and perch on the edge. “Better?”
“Not really.”
“How about you tell me what’s going on, and maybe I’ll relax afterward.”
“You won’t.” He glares at me. “Fuck, I hate this.”
“Adriano.” I stare right back at him, starting to get annoyed. My heart’s pattering quickly in my chest. Knowing my family, this could be anywhere from a minor inconvenience to a massive global meltdown. “Either start talking or I’m going to kick your ass like I used to when we were younger.”
“If I remember right, you were a pathetic string bean, while I’ve always been a big, strapping lad.”
“You’ve always been something. But it’s stupid, not strapping. Nowtalk, please, before I have a heart attack.”
He leans back with a groan. “I don’t want to do this, okay? I’ve been resisting it foryears, Bianca, and trust me, there has been serious fucking pressure on me. You’re my sister. You’re valuable. And I let you do whatever you want.”
My jaw tightens. “I don’t like that wholelet mebullshit.”
“You know what I mean.” He spreads his hands, placating. “We all have to do things for the Famiglia. I’ve asked very, very little of you over the years. Papa indulged you, and I’ve tried to let you find your own way.”
“But that’s changing.”
His hands fall heavily onto the arms of his chair. “That’s changing,” he agrees. “I’ve been in talks with the Whelan Clan. They’re an important organization out of New York.”
“I’ve heard of them. Irish syndicate, right? Pretty serious people?” I tilt my head, trying to remember the names of their core family. “There’s a father, he runs them, and he’s got like four kids, right?”
“Four brothers. Declan, Cormac, Seamus, and Finn. From what I hear, they’re all good men.” He hesitates and looks away. “Well, except for Cormac. But he doesn’t matter.”
“Why are you telling me about these people?”
“We’re expanding. You know that. I haven’t been subtle about it. Our influence over Philadelphia has grown over the last couple of years, and we’ve actually been importing even more product than we’ve been able to move. It’s starting to be a problem.”
“Wow, I’m crying for you over here. Poor man can’t sell his drugs.”
