Page 37 of Shadowed Loyalty

G’s cheeks went pink, but pure pleasure shone in his eyes. “Shucks, Bina. It’s not like I wrote the thing.”

“And without printers like you, an author’s work would never get into anyone’s hands. Who is to say which is the more crucial? They depend on each other.”

Little G accepted the book back from her hands. “Printers like me. You think I could keep doing it? I mean—you think Papa…?”

Sabina’s face went soft. “I think Papa will be very proud of you, whatever you choose to do. Just look at how proud he and Vanni are of Enzo! And Mama—Mama would be over the moon.”

G kept his gaze on the book, ran his fingers over the cover. “I’m his only son, though. If I don’t follow him into the business…”

Sabina settled her fingers over his, on the cover. “You were born to create things, Giorgio. Ever since you were little, that’s what brought you joy. Papa would never begrudge you that.” She straightened, lifted her chin. “I wouldn’t let him, even if he tried.”

G laughed and ducked away when she tried to reach for his hair again. “Good—he can never tell you no like he can me.” He pivoted toward the house. “I have to show Mama.”

Sabina pressed her hand to her heart. “He’s almost a man. How did it happen? My Little G.”

Lorenzo was tempted to rub a hand over his own chest too. His sweet Sabina. “You really think he’ll stick with it? The printing?”

Doubt flickered through her eyes as they started walking again, and he could have punched himself. But then it settled into determination as she reached for his hand. “I’ll pray for it, for him, every day. Maybe God will grant that petition. For his sake.”

Something in that statement needed to be dissected, perhaps cross-examined, but before he could give it the attention it deserved, Manny stepped through the front door and greeted them with arms stretched wide. “Bina, Enzo! It does an old man’s heart good to see you looking so happy.”

“You’re far from an old man, Papa.” She gave Lorenzo’s fingers a squeeze before releasing them, and then moved over to kiss Manny’s cheek. “I’m going to go get some coffee while you two talk. Enzo, do you want any dessert? I think Cook made tiramisu.”

“Of course he does,” Manny said, slapping a hand to Lorenzo’s back and ushering him into the foyer. “We haven’t had ours yet, either, so just tell your mother we’ll all take it together in the parlor in a few minutes.” As soon as she left, Manny turned back to him with raised brows and closed the front door on the beautiful evening. “What do we have to talk about?”

Lorenzo saw no point in wasting time. “O’Reilly paid me a visit this afternoon. The bootlegging charges are still going through.”

Manny muttered a Sicilian curse and led the way into the parlor. “All right. What are our choices?”

“They’ll probably offer to settle out of court if you plead guilty. You’ll get a fine, that’ll be that. Until the next time, when a conviction would carry guaranteed prison time.”

Manny grunted and paced to the unlit fireplace.

Lorenzo took his favorite chair. “We can take it to court and hope you’re acquitted. Based on what you told me the other day, you’ve got a pretty secure safety net set up. We could probably force the evidence to point away from you, but until I see what they’ve got, I can’t know for sure.”

“No good.” Manny tapped his fingers on the mantel in a nervous tattoo. “There’s still the chance we’d lose.” He cursed again and rolled his shoulders, his face hardening into a mask that Lorenzo knew he rarely donned within these walls. This wasn’t Giorgio, doting papa and husband. This was Mancari, Mafia boss. “What do I pay these people for if not to avoid these situations? Prison time, even in the future, is not acceptable.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t make a living through crime.” He didn’t mean to say it—it just slipped out.

Manny angled him a look more amused than annoyed. “We’ve never tried to change your inclination toward the straight and narrow, Lorenzo. Don’t waste your time trying to persuade us away from the wide and lucrative.”

Lorenzo hooked one ankle over the opposite knee and gusted out a sigh. “If this goes to trial, you might want to keep in mind that I have absolutely no experience in heading up a defense. I’ve been second counsel with Mr. Stein a few times, but those were all his cases. I’d hate to think that my incompetence could play a role here. Maybe you should consider hiring Darrow or—”

“Enzo. If you want me to take this elsewhere, just say so. I have not forgotten my promise to you.”

Lorenzo sighed again. Maybe he should just let him take it to Darrow. It would be easier all round. But O’Reilly had made it personal. This wasn’t just about defending a criminal. It was about reclaiming his girl. “I’ll finish what I started. The agreement can be reinstated after this mess with O’Reilly is cleared up.”

“All right then.” Manny pursed his lips for a moment and then gave a decisive nod. “Well, there’s no help for it. We’ll just have to call the senator.”

“Senator?”

“These are federal charges, aren’t they? Then our best bet of getting them dismissed is to go to the federal level. As soon as you know the details of the charges, we’ll give a call to our good friend in Washington. I helped get him elected, and if he wants my help again next time, he’d better return the favor.”

“Right.” Lorenzo pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering who he’d be calling next. He suddenly wouldn’t have put it past Manny to be owed a favor by the president, too.

Sabina switched on a lamp that bathed her in a soft glow as she entered her room, humming. Over coffee and dessert, she had let her mind wander back in time, trying to remember what had really gone through her head in those first days when Lorenzo’s intentions became known. In the beginning, she had been excited that Lorenzo, the smartest person she knew, the fortress in all her tempests, was interested in her. The thrill of being seen on the arm of a college man and the steady comfort of knowing that by his side, she’d be cared for every day of her life.

It had indeed all started on her sixteenth birthday, when his simple move of taking her hand made the day shine. Smiling, she moved over to her small secretary and picked up one of the few books she kept there. Wessex Poems and Other Verses by Gerard Manley Hopkins. Lorenzo’s gift to her that day.

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