Page 92 of Vows of Blood

Sophia is on my cousin’s arm, watching my face for a reaction that she won't get. I couldn’t give a damn who she fucks.

Orlando sidles through the crowd, pressing the flesh, smiling and greeting people like he owns the place, reminding everyone he has my father's ear.

I tip my head, and one of the guards cuts off Sophia’s approach, much to Orlando’s annoyance.

But this is family business.

With a scowl, Sophia drops his arm and drifts toward the bar, chin held conspicuously high, conscious of being watched and whispered about.

"Luca." Orlando raises his glass in greeting, his bitterness coming through even over the thumping music. "I wasn't expecting you."

I stare at my father, waiting for him to finish slobbering all over his lady friend and come up for air. I was hoping he’d be here alone.

"Then you haven't been paying attention," I say quietly before turning slowly to stare Orlando down. “And I’m not here to see you.”

My cousin’s smile dims, but he holds it, taking a half step back from me, closer to his lap dog, Ignacio. "Your little bride swap announcement has ruffled some feathers. You should know that."

Orlando’s feeling brave here in the club, with his buddies watching, and too many people around for me to cause a scene.

Ignacio glares at me, standing so close to Orlando’s back that it seems a bit more personal than just protection. Taking in how angry he seems, it occurs to me that Sophia’s presence might be the reason he seems so hot and bothered.

"Like I could give a fuck."

Orlando blinks for a second then decides to ignore the warning carried in my tone that this is none of his fucking concern. "Your father was looking for you."

“Are you his fucking secretary now?” I sneer, still staring down Ignacio who has some nerve to still be standing in front of me. “This has nothing to do with you. I have no idea who the fuck told you that you belong here while I speak with my father, but you don’t, so get the fuck away from me.”

Orlando bristles, but keeps his mouth shut, while behind him, with a lingering look of pure hatred, Ignacio turns and walks away.

“Your son needs to remember his place,” I say loudly to Fausto, Ignacio’s father, who stands to the side, watching over my father as always.

“Luca…” Orlando attempts to placate me, but I loom over him, reminding him just who he’s talking to and how easily I could wring his scrawny fucking neck.

Nico’s smile is chilling as he steps up close to Orlando’s back, taking the spot Ignacio just vacated, making a Calvano brother sandwich that Orlando definitely does not want to be caught in the middle of.

Finally, my father glances up, his displeasure at our presence clear by the way he barely removes his attention from the woman beside him and her substantial assets.

"Luca. Nico. What are you doing here?"

Grinding my teeth, I turn away from my sly cousin and suppress the urge to remind my father that I’m the seventy-five percent owner of this club. It makes more sense for me to be here than him.

"Working. Same as you. And your… company."

One of the women makes to leave after seeing the look on my face. It’s well known that I don't let them turn tricks in my club. What they do in their own time is none of my business, but it doesn’t happen under my roof.

My father stills with a hand on her knee, keeping her there as a deliberate slight.

Enzo stays on the floor behind us, while Nico drops into the seat beside my father with the easy posture of a man who isn't remotely fazed by the suffocating tension.

"Tell me why you thought it was a good idea to humiliate this family by parading that woman in front of everyone," my father demands. "When you assured me just days ago that she was nothing to worry about."

He doesn’t like having anything less than full control over every aspect of our lives. Behind his calm demeanor, I can see the rage swirling.

"The alliance with the Irish has been protected by bringing in a neutral outsider. By acting quickly, we prevent you from having to walk back commitments that would make us look disorganized." I parrot back the advice he’s drilled into me for years and years. "The other families respect strength, follow-through, and fulfilled promises."

He stares, angry at being all but called out because he had no intention of stepping down. He wanted the truce to appease the others and hoped that would be enough to keep him at the helm, not caring one bit that he’d be undermining me by canceling the plans.

"You're not the Capo yet, Luca," Orlando says, leaning a shoulder against the partition, arms folded.