Page 49 of Dirty Mafia King
Sandro forces a smile.
My eyes dart to his father.
Who should be pleased. He’s gotten what he wants, right?
Yet something simmers with his blue eyes that says otherwise.
CHAPTER18
ALESSIA
It’s a quiet evening. The luncheon ended a few hours ago, and guests departed well-fed and in good spirits. My father gave me a hug and then—without even an “Are you okay?”—left in a limousine.
A hand-picked few are spending a night on the town. I overheard the guards say the Beneventi men were taking the old man club-hopping to celebrate the engagement. A bachelor party—before the wedding date’s even been set.
I’ve been relegated to the woodwork, a hint of how life will become.
A blessing, right? So why do I feel sullen? Why wish for the slightest acknowledgment, the slightest praise, from a man more ambitious than my father?
This is a gift. Make what you can of it.
Nonna’s been too busy for me to ask if she’d approach Bastian, on my behalf, about college. I’ll insist my father pay tuition. It’s the least my father can do.
My phone vibrates, and I frown. It’s nearly midnight. I race toward the island to answer it. “Sienna?”
“Thank God you picked up before I’m spotted.”
“Renzo?” I gasp.
“Lessie, I’m so sorry how things went down.” His voice is strained, panicked. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. Are you okay?” I demand, suddenly worried.
“No. I’m sober as fuck when I’d rather be high.”
My eyebrows form a deepV. “Then rehab is good for you.”
He snorts. “It’s overpriced and overrated, smells like a hospital, and is run by an ex-Marine.”
“So, it’s paradise?”
He chuckles, and I relax. Honestly, I’m thrilled he called.
“When’s the announcement?”
“It was today.”
“Today?” He sounds disappointed.
“And Don Lucchese blessed the union.”
“My godfather flew to Rhode Island?” Renzo’s as surprised as everyone else, except Bastian.
“Yes.”
“My father must be thrilled.”
I smile, still pleased with myself. “He is.”
