Page 62 of By Blade, I Love
“What do I want?” I asked blankly, not having a clue what that meant. “You—obviously.”
“I meant professionally.”
Now I was even more confused. “What are we talking about here?”
Her eyes continued to stare into mine.
“Our plan was to get the vineyard back, and I’m your top lieutenant. Your bodyguard. Your protector. The guy who kills anyone who is dumb enough to cross you. And we’re executing that plan beautifully.”
Her eyes dropped momentarily before she looked at me again.
“So what are you really trying to say, baby?”
The answer wasn’t forthcoming. She was the one who’d broached the subject, yet she was unable to verbalize herintentions. “You aren’t meant to be a follower, Wolfe. You’re meant to be a leader.”
My eyebrows furrowed at the absurd statement. “I’m not taking the position from you. Not only would I not be good at it, but I don’t want it.”
“I’m not talking about the vineyard.”
“Then what, baby?”
She stared at me.
I continued to stare into her eyes and wait for an answer. “Cosa Nostra?” I asked incredulously.
“It’s been your whole life. The plan was for you to take over, and I think that makes a lot of sense. I’ve seen you with them, and you’re the leader—even if you technically aren’t. You’re too good at your job to take orders from someone else. I just wonder…if you would be happier running Cosa Nostra.”
I stared at her for a long time because she’d just struck me with a bunch of nonsensical bullshit. “Where is this coming from? Because I’ve never once said to you that I have any desire to return to Cosa Nostra. I only aligned with them temporarily to get your business back. Once I fulfill my end of the bargain, we’re done.”
“But is that what you really want?”
I cocked my head.
“I just think…that maybe it is something you might want,” she said quietly. “And it’s okay if it is. You’re exactly the type of leader they need.”
Where the fuck is all this coming from?
“I just want you to know that if you want to return to Cosa Nostra, I would support you.”
“Support me?” I asked. “As in, sell off your family business to someone else and move to Palermo with me to be a housewife?”
“Yes.”
A wave of surprise moved over me because I hadn’t expected her to ever make a compromise like that—not that I wanted her to make it in the first place. I tried to think of an explanation for this provocation because I hadn’t said a single thing to her to suggest I was unhappy with our lives, that I had some unfulfilled desire to be Don Barsetti of Cosa Nostra…which was fucking ridiculous. Then an explanation struck me, remembering her and Don Russo talking together alone at the table when I was across the terrace. “Don Russo…” He’d whispered a little manipulation in her ear. “What exactly did he say to you?”
There was hesitation in her stare, like she hadn’t expected me to figure that out.
“What did he say to you?” I repeated more forcefully.
She swallowed before she spoke. “He asked if the vineyard was something I truly wanted…or if I was led to believe it’s what I wanted. Because if it’s not, I should let you come home where you belong.”
“Where I belong.” The words felt like garbage in my mouth. “Asshole has a lot of fucking nerve.”
“I don’t think he meant any harm by it.”
“He couldn’t manipulate me, so he decided to manipulate you.”
“He didn’tmanipulateme.” Her meekness started to fade. “I’ve seen you change since you’ve returned to Cosa Nostra. The men respect and revere you. You’re great at your job. You’re a leader whom they will literally follow anywhere. I just think if anyone can rule all of Cosa Nostra, it’s you. And I don’t think it’s fair that you have to miss out on that opportunity, if you want it, to work for someone else at my vineyard.”
