“Are you questioning mine?” He’s direct. We all are, I guess. “I’m your mother’s brother, remember. Your godfather. Are you questioning my loyalty to you or your family?”

“Explain to me how it came up.”

He raises his eyebrows. The chair creaks as he leans back. “I don’t think the Benedetti family needs another war. Not right now.”

I agree with him on that. The DeMarco war damaged us, at least a little. We won, but between that and my mother’s illness, Roman is right. This is not the time for war. Vitelli—hell, any ambitious family—would use my mother’s illness, see it as a weakness, an opportunity.

“I gave a little, to gain a little,” he says. “I apologize if I overstepped.”

“I don’t like being caught off guard.”

“And it wasn’t my intention that you should be.” He rises, walks around his desk and comes toward me. “Sergio, you’re my nephew. My blood. And when the time comes, I hope I’ll be of service to you as I am to your father.” He gives a brief bow of his head.

I watch him do this, know what it takes to do what he’s doing. He’s right that we’re blood. And to have to bow to a man almost thirty years his junior, whose only privilege is birth, must burn a little.

I nod, check my watch. “Anything new from the Vitelli boys?”

“No. Quiet as can be.”

“Which we both know is not really a good sign.” Silence always precedes an ambush. A deafening, deadly stillness.

“Yes, we do.” He moves back behind his desk. Sits. “I’ll keep my eyes on Vitelli.”

“Do. I want to be kept up to date on any happenings. Let’s keep my father out of this for now.”

“I agree with that.”

“Are you coming to Dominic’s birthday dinner?” I ask to change the subject.

“Of course.”

“I’ll see you then,” I say.

“You don’t want to stay? Have something to eat?”

“No, thank you. I have some personal business to take care of.”

“All right. I’ll walk you out.”

When I’m done at my uncle’s, Eric drives me to my next destination, the Dayton Architecture offices. As in Professor Harry Dayton, the prick. He touched her, expecting her to fuck him for a fucking internship. Fucking asshole. I’m about to do this town a service.

As we near the offices, I wonder how she gets out here because she doesn’t own a car. There’s a bus stop a few blocks down. I’m guessing she takes the bus and although this isn’t a bad neighborhood, the opposite, in fact, I don’t like the thought of her walking on her own or waiting in the dark at the bus stop.