Page 15 of Dirty Mafia King
“Am I that deplorable, Sheila?”
“What? No. It’s just … I have a confession—”
“Watch out!” he bellows at the same time.
The cart hits a speed bump and lands hard. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel as Renzo pitches sideways. I lift my bare foot from the flattened pedal, and the golf cart lurches to a stop.
Seconds pass as we both readjust ourselves.
“You, my friend, drive like a lead-footed martian after several martinis.”
I laugh until my stomach hurts.
“Save your confessions for Sunday, and tell me what exotic locale you propose we escape to?”
Escape, for sure. “I know we just met…”
“Don’t chicken out now.”
“I’m on a short break from studying Art History in Italy.” Like me, he’s curious. Unlike me, he’s a risk-taker. Renzo would be the perfect person to explore places I wouldn’t dare venture with anyone else.
“Florence?”
I shake my head. “Rome.”
“Rome.”
The light fades within his eyes quicker than a storm cloud swallowing the sunshine. I’ve upset him. “Are you okay?” I hastily ask.
“Define okay.”
I blink.
“Okay, fucked up? Okay, broken beyond repair?”
“Renzo—”
“Okay, being a constant disappointment to my family?”
His raw honesty is startling. God, he’s beautiful, even when consumed by so much pain.
“I understand,” I whisper. “I really, really do.” I nudge him with my elbow. “The only person whose expectations you need to live up to are your own.”
“You read that on a coffee mug?”
I stiffen.
“I’m a motherfuckingBeneventi.The eldest son of a capo. The natural heir. But I’m a fuckup. I was offered the chance to prove my worth, and not only did I fail, but Sandro had to step in and cover for me. We Beneventi don’t do weak—but that’s what I am. My father’s despondent, and my brother’s furious.” Our eyes lock. “And I’m broken, jaded.” He sucks in a breath. “Want to hear the deep, dark truth? My grandfather should have gotten rid of us.”
I can only stare, and listen.
“He threatened my father. Said we’d be a distraction, a liability.” Renzo looks off into the distance. “Turns out, he was right.”
“If you ask your grandfather if he’s had a change of heart, I bet—”
“That mean bastard’s dead. Buried somewhere near the ninth hole.”
I choke on thin air.
