Page 111 of Carnal

"Don't keep me in suspense," I add.

Tristano's face hardens. He stands and answers, "Until the job's over. We need to get moving. Grab your purse and whatever else you want to take."

"What's the job?"

Another uneasy look passes between them.

"This has to do with Massimo, doesn't it?" I ask. Ever since we bugged his plane, he's gotten closer to Katiya. It's driving Tristano crazy. Dante hasn't said anything to me about it, but Tristano and I seem to talk about everything.

Dante breaks his gaze with Tristano and says, "We have proof Katiya is working for the Abruzzos."

My gut drops and I gape at him. It's always been an assumption, but now that we know it's real, it seems extra disheartening. I blurt out, "Does Massimo know?"

Tristano sniffs hard. "That's what we're going to find out."

Tense silence fills the room until Dante orders, "You two need to go. Bora Bora isn't exactly close by. Pina, make sure you keep him on task."

I groan as if annoyed, but I can't deny I'm excited to go somewhere new. Plus, alone time with Tristano where we can go out and not worry about being seen sounds good to me—assuming he's not still upset with me.

He doesn't look it.

Maybe he's acting in front of Dante.

I sneak a peek at him but don't get any answers. He's not changed his demeanor since they walked into the office.

"Like I need a babysitter. I'll be in the lobby," Tristano states.

"Have a good trip," Dante says, then goes into his office.

I step into mine, grab my purse and coat, and meet Tristano at the elevator.

His hand is on the metal, holding the door open. I join him in the elevator. He hits the close door button, then the G, and leers down at me. Tension fills the small space as he asserts, "You can apologize anytime now."

I scoff. "Excuse me?"

Arrogance washes over his expression. "You were out of line last night."

Heat flushes my cheeks, but my stubbornness won't allow me to agree. I tilt my head, asking, "How many women offered to fuck you last night?"

He scowls. "Knock it off, Pina."

"Knock what off? Trying to learn the truth?"

He grinds his molars. The elevator stops and the doors open. He slides his palm on my back and marches me through the lobby and into the cold outside.

Flex is waiting with the SUV and opens the back door. His mirrored sunglasses hide his eyes, but his lips make me want to smack him. His expression is like he's shouting to all of New York that he knows our secret. "Pina."

"Save it," I mutter, then get into the back seat.

Tristano follows, and the door shuts.

Flex gets in the driver's seat. "Where to, boss?"

"Teterboro," Tristano answers, then hits the button for the divider window to close. He turns to me, his eyes black slits.

My stomach flips. I sit taller and try not to flinch under his stare. I'm wrong and know it, but something about admitting that to Tristano is hard for me. He's a Marino. I've spent my adult life learning not to cave to them so they don't push me around.

He lowers his voice, "What do you suggest I do when Papà orders me to handle business at the club?"

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