Page 84 of Between Steel and Secrets
I shouldn’t even bring it up. I drank to avoid the question, but now I’m being completely reckless and mentioning it again.
I need to know where she’s getting her information. Is there a leak in his organization? It shouldn’t be common knowledge that he runs the New York City mafia. He tries to keep a low profile; at least, I think he does.
We don’t talk business.
Unlike Luca and Ashton, my father isn’t preparing me to run his empire.
“He is mafia, isn’t he?” Bristol asks.
I let silence be my answer.
“Okay,” Bristol sighs. “What if I told you I know, without a doubt, that he runs the mafia in New York City and?—”
“Do you have evidence?”
“Me? Of course not. It’s just, I interned for the summer at Eagle Tactical, and I saw?—”
“What did you see?” I sit up in bed, my heart racing.
“There were files, pages on your family, my family. It’s quite complicated. For a minute, I thought we might have been related.”
I can’t help but raise an eyebrow as I stare down at her.
She’s joking, right?
“I had the same expression,” Bristol says. The smile softens on her face. “It’s okay. We’re not related, but the files?—”
“What files?” I growl.
“The ones they have on everyone. They run background checks for like every local business in town. They also do private investigative work. What’s your problem?” she asks, realizing I’m not lying back down and going to sleep.
All she’s done is worked me up into a frenzy.
“My father is in those files? Am I in those files?”
“You’re mentioned, but it’s nothing bad. Just that you’re his son. What’s the big deal?” Bristol asks.
She has no idea the man Antonio is and what he’s capable of. If he got wind that there was anything on him, so much as a file with his name on it, he’d burn that place to the ground and everyone along with it.
“Stay away from anything involving my father,” I growl at her.
“Obviously,” Bristol says, forcing a smile. “I don’t plan on working for the mafia.” She laughs and runs her hand along my arm and down to my hand.
Her touch is soothing, but I still feel pent-up frustration jumping through my veins, making it impossible to lie down and fall asleep.
“I didn’t ask you that to stress you out or embarrass you in front of your friends,” Bristol says.
I shuffle back down on the mattress, lying on my side, staring at her. “Why did you ask me about it?”
“I wanted to know if you knew he was mafia. Seems like you do.”
“It’d be impossible not to know,” I whisper. “I’d have to be dumb. Doesn’t mean I’m rolling over on him. I have nothing. No evidence. Never saw him commit a crime. I’d make a terrible witness on the stand, and as far as I know, he’s just a very astute businessman.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” Bristol isn’t convinced, but I don’t need to convince her. I just need her to leave it well enough alone. “Are you mad at me for asking?”
I exhale a heavy sigh. “No,” I say and pull her closer. “I’m not mad. I was just surprised.”
“Do you think your friends are going to be afraid of you, now that they know your father is mafia?”
