Page 8 of Entangled

“Right, my wife.”

Fuck that.

Gian decided their conversation was going nowhere, and turned around to leave, only to come face to face with his father and mother. Frederic and Celeste made no attempt to hide the fact they had been standing there eavesdropping on the brothers’ conversation.

“Do you have something you would like to add?” Gian asked his scowling father.

Frederic had no qualms about sharing his opinions with Gian, especially regarding his unconventional marriage, and the affair his son had had with Cara for months.

“Your brother has a point,” Frederic said. “Don’t go getting yourself caught up into another mess with the Rossi girl. Not now, Gian. You have better things to focus your time and energy on, and Elena is just one of those things.”

“Or you could mind your fucking business.”

“Gian!” his mother said, horrified and glancing toward the pulpit.

Gian wasn’t in the mood to tone down his attitude for the sake of sensibilities. “I said what I said, Ma. I meant it.”

“You married your wife,” his father said, paying no attention to his wife or what his son had told him. “You chose to marry that girl, and now you have to live with it.”

“I never got a choice, actually. I was given the illusion of a choice, which you’re aware.” Gian slid on his aviator sunglasses, and pushed past his father to head down the aisle. “It still makes no difference to what I told you. Mind your fucking business.”

There was something about the city of Toronto in the summer that Cara Rossi loved. People seemed happier in the summer.

It was definitely not Chicago.

Speaking of Chicago …

“Seems my sister is so busy, she can’t even be bothered to phone me on a regular basis,” Tommas said the moment Cara picked up her brother’s call.

“I don’t even get a hello, huh?”

“Do you think you deserve one?”

“I think I’m your only living sister, so a hello would be nice.”

“Hello, Cara. Call me more often, please. I like to know you’re still alive and kicking. Without having to call to ask if you are. Okay?”

Cara rolled her eyes upward. “I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while; I have been busy, regardless of what you think.”

“Do tell.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What has you so busy that you can’t afford a five-minute phone call?” her brother asked.

“You’re such a nosy little shit. I think you get that from your wife.”

Tommas snorted. “Believe me, out of the two of us, it is me who is the nosiest. Abriella gets all the dirty details from me.”

“I bet.”

“I worry about you, Cara. That’s all.”

She slowed a bit in her walk to allow an older couple to go ahead of her. “You don’t need to be worried about me at all. How was the wedding?”

“That was a month ago.”

“I did call to congratulate you. You were gone. I left a message on the house phone.”