Page 120 of Say I Do

“Anyway,” Paolo cut in. “The issue is this Darla Shamers shit. Everyone knows what, or rather who, she was looking into. She wasn’t quiet with her questions, and she bragged to her colleagues about what she was working on. Now that she’s missing, my boss is turning his gaze toward the Vitales.”

I groaned. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “It ain’t pretty.” He opened his suit jacket and tossed a flash drive onto my desk. “This is what I gathered so far. Trying to get anything else out of there will be too dangerous. I nearly got caught getting this.”

I slid it across the surface of my desk. “Shit. All right, thanks.”

Paolo nodded. “Prima la famiglia. Always,” he said with a nod. “You know I’d do anything for you all.”

“I know.”

He’d sacrificed more than any of us. While I was the one that shouldered all of the responsibility, Gianpaolo was the one who never got to see his family. He wasn’t able to come around for celebrations, funerals, or Sunday dinner. Hell, no one even knew he was alive. The few times he and I met up were fraught with danger. He’d made it his specialty to get in and out so that he could continue to work for us behind the scenes.

“That’s all well and good, but shit is hitting the fan,” my father cut in. “Did you deal with Lee Aceto?”

I swallowed thickly as my stomach turned. “Yes.”

“Are you stupid?” my father asked plainly. “You take out a made man without permission? How the fuck did you think that would end? Fuck!” he snapped.

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “It couldn’t be helped. Lee was working with Darla to defame us. I lost clients because of it, and if it continued, everything we’ve worked so hard for could have been thrown in the trash.”

My father’s hands slammed onto the desk as he stood up and glared at me. The drink he’d been having sloshed over the sides, staining the wood. I moved my gaze from the spill up to meet his withering stare.

“I give the orders,” he snapped. Fury burned in his eyes. “Your job is to do what you’re told and keep up appearances. I told you when this started I’d take back over one day, but I won’t have shit if you burn it all to the ground!” He sat down, anger written all over his face. “It’s bad enough you can’t contain that husband of yours, but this on top of it all? What the hell can you do right? The Acetos are asking questions, and you sit here with your thumb up your goddamn ass!”

“Dad,” Paolo muttered. “This job isn’t easy.”

“Lifeisn’t easy,” he barked. He shoved a finger toward me. “If this all comes falling, I swear to god, Benito.”

I stared at him, a dare on my tongue. What? What the fuck could he do? I wanted to know because he’d done everything in his power to move me like a pawn while telling me that this was my empire. Now he wanted it back? I almost laughed in his face. He’d gone to prison through sloppiness on his part. How the fuck was that my problem? My fingers curled into fists as I suppressed the urge to stand and punch him in the face.

Movement caught my eye. I glanced up in time to see Harlow as he emerged from the bathroom with a frown on his lips. He was wrapped in a robe I’d left there, his dark hair wild. I stood up.

“Harlow, I’ll be done shortly. Go back to your shower.”

He frowned as he ignored me and stared at my father. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

I stared at him. “Don’t.”

“No.” He held up a hand and glared at my father. “Benito has been working his ass off to make for this family, and you’re sitting here giving him shit for it?” Harlow’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell is he supposed to do?”

My father’s attention trained on Harlow. I instinctively moved toward my husband. No, he didn’t need my help. He’d made that more than abundantly clear, but I couldn’t leave him tossed to the wolves to fend for himself, either. It wasn’t in my nature.

“This doesn’t concern you,” my father said as he waved a hand. “Wait outside.”

Harlow stared at him before darkness swirled in his eyes. I knew that look all too well. I grabbed Harlow, pulled him into my side, and pinned him there so he couldn’t grab the nearest sharp object and stab my father in the throat.

“Benito, you need to clean up your shit. I knew you couldn’t handle this,” my father barked.

“For your information, Benito did nothing wrong. He—”

I slapped a hand over Harlow’s mouth. He stared up at me, his eyes wide. I shook my head. I knew he wanted to say he had killed Lee, but that wouldn’t help anything. Harlow would face even harsher punishment for doing it than I would. As it was, I might be able to smooth things over with the family if I explained shit had gone off the rails.

“The families want answers,” my father said as he snapped to get my attention. “I expect you to figure this shit out instead of being worthless.”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Gianpaolo stood and tugged his hood up. He slid a pair of glasses on before he watched our father storm out.

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