Page 63 of His Game (His Obsession 1)

"It's almost ready!" she said with a smile. "Would anyone like a drink?"

"I can get our drinks," my father told her. "Get your ass back in the kitchen. I'm fucking starving. And don't burn the garlic bread this time!" he yelled after her as she skittered away, the smile plastered to her face far less genuine than when she first came out.

"Wine? Or whiskey?" my father asked.

"Whiskey," I told him.

After inviting Enzo to stay and drink, we followed him into the den. Like the rest of his home decor, this room was old-school mafia, all dark wood and red furniture with priceless paintings and collector’s items decorating the walls and bookshelves. If anyone ever had the balls to break in here, they'd be set for life, if they managed to live long enough to enjoy it.

"I heard some shit went down at your uncle's birthday between you and Gio. I'm sorry I missed it. My gout was acting up and I couldn’t travel." Handing Enzo and me our drinks, he walked back over to the side table to get his and then took a seat in his favorite chair, leaving us the loveseat.

Gout, my ass. The only thing this man suffered from was an aversion to his younger brother. "I should've shot him," I said. "He was being an ass. And I honestly don't think anyone would miss him. Not even his mother."

"He attacked a woman in the bathroom," Enzo filled in. "Luca's woman, to be precise."

"She's not my woman," I corrected him. "She's my revenge. And I can't afford to lose her before we can draw out Mario."

"My mistake," Enzo told me, raising his glass in apology. But I didn't miss the smirk he made no attempt to hide before he took a drink.

I narrowed my eyes at him but didn't remark on it. Turning back to my father, I said, "What Enzo said is true, though. And Gio doesn't know anything except that she's the woman I'm currently involved with. He pulled her into the men's room and touched her inappropriately. But she gave back as good as she got and managed to get away from him right as I found them." Something warmed my chest as I said it. A sense of pride, perhaps.

"Where are we with your plan?" my father asked. "How close are you to finding Mario?"

"I received a message from Tristan while we were on our way over here," I told him. "He has a lead. Mario will be back in the city this weekend from wherever he's been hiding. I told him to let me know as soon as he knows more."

"And you're absolutely positive your pain in the ass brother has no idea his fiancée is actually dead. Because if you walk into another trap, Luca, it'll be you who's dead. Your brother won't miss a second time."

It surprised me to see a flicker of concern cross my father's face before it was once again hidden by the unfeeling mask I'd known my entire life. "Rene took care of that mess personally. As you know, he's very thorough. I trust him completely. He wants justice for his sister just as much as I do."

He nodded, but I got the feeling he wasn’t satisfied with my answer.

“Even if he put a bullet in Nicole himself, hearing that she’s suddenly risen from the dead will be enough to bring him out of hiding. He won’t be able to resist seeing it for himself. All I need is a face to face.”

My father leaned back in his chair. “And you’ll get it. Mario called me right before you arrived. He wants to meet with me.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw his snitching ass and the answer was no. However, after I let him snivel for a bit, I agreed to send one of my men to hear what he had to say.” He eyed me over the rim of his glass. “You will be that man.”

I held myself perfectly still, not one shred of the myriad of emotion I felt showing on my face. “Just let me know when and where.”

Linda called us in to dinner then, and we changed our conversation to less important matters. My father liked to fuck her, but he didn't trust her, which was smart. Women like Linda were only loyal to whoever threw the most money at them. Right now, it was my father, but that could change at any given moment.

After dinner, we had another drink and wrapped up our business. Shortly after, Enzo and I made our excuses and left. It didn't surprise me at all that my father hadn't asked about the gunshot in my shoulder or how I was healing. Perhaps when I was dead, he would shed a tear over my grave. Until then, I was nothing more than his underboss, a position I held onto by the skin of my teeth until I could earn back the respect of the family.

"So, the plan worked," Enzo said once we were back on the road. “Your brother is coming home.”

"I never had any doubt."

"Who do you think is feeding the information to Mario?"

"It could be anyone," I told him. "I took her out in public twice. Anyone could have seen us. Hell, Enzo, I was shot after the first time I took her downtown."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"What are you trying to get at here?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "I was hoping we could find a reason to nail your cousin as a snitch."

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