Page 16 of The Seventh Circle
Yet here I was again, risking not just my position but Antonio's life with every lingering glance and unnecessary touch.
The car pulled up to our estate, and I composed myself before entering. The great house was quiet at this hour, most servants retired to their quarters, though light still spilled from beneath Father's study door. I moved silently past, relieved to avoid another conversation about the Vitelli girl.
In my wing, I paused at the sound of laughter from Paolo's rooms. The door stood ajar, lamplight and cigar smoke spilling into the hallway. I meant to continue to my chambers, but Antonio's face flashed in my mind—his concern about being followed, the family he was trying to protect.
I knocked once and entered.
Paolo lounged in his shirtsleeves, tie discarded, playing cards with two lieutenants I recognized from our southern operations. Empty whiskey glasses and a half-full ashtray suggested they'd been at it for hours.
"The prodigal heir returns!" Paolo grinned, raising his glass. "Join us! These dogs have nearly cleaned me out."
"Just a moment of your time," I said, gesturing toward the hallway.
Paolo raised an eyebrow but excused himself from the game. In the corridor, he leaned against the wall, studying me with alcohol-bright eyes.
"What trouble brings you to my door so late? Another market dispute?"
"It's about Romano," I said, keeping my voice neutral. "He mentioned being followed—someone watching his building,asking questions. Likely Torrino's people after our little demonstration."
Paolo's expression sharpened with interest. "And?"
"And I want you to look into it." I matched his casual tone. "Have someone find whoever's trailing him and... discourage further interest."
"Why the concern for Romano? He can handle himself."
I shrugged, the lie prepared. "He's valuable. Loyal, intelligent. Father thinks highly of him."
"Does he now?" Paolo looked skeptical. "I wasn't aware my uncle had noticed Romano beyond his ability to break kneecaps."
"He's more than muscle." The words came out more defensive than intended, and I moderated my tone. "His reading, his numbers—he has potential beyond enforcement. It would be wasteful to lose him to Torrino's vendetta."
Paolo studied me, and for a moment I feared he saw through my pretense. Then he grinned, clapping my shoulder.
"Whatever you say, cousin. I'll handle it personally." His eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Been looking for an excuse to send Torrino another message anyway."
Relief mixed with unease. Paolo's enthusiasm for violence often exceeded what was prudent, but I couldn't retract the request now.
"Just be subtle," I cautioned. "We don't need a war."
"Subtlety is my specialty," Paolo laughed, the sound undermining his words entirely. "Don't worry your pretty head about it."
I started toward my rooms, but Paolo's voice stopped me.
"Lorenzo."
I turned.
"Is Romano the reason you're hesitating with the Vitelli girl?"
The question hit like ice water. "What?"
"Uncle Salvatore mentioned you seemed... reluctant. And now this special concern for an enforcer..." He shrugged. "People talk, cousin."
"Then they talk nonsense," I said coldly. "My hesitation about the Vitelli arrangement is purely strategic. And Romano is a business asset, nothing more."
Paolo held up his hands in surrender. "Of course. I meant no offense." His smile suggested otherwise. "Sleep well, cousin."
I strode away, anger heating my neck. Paolo was probing, testing whether rumours existed to exploit. I’d have to be more careful—distance myself from Antonio in ways others could observe, even as my mind refused to let him go.
