Page 42 of Because I Need You
“Any news on my mother?” I asked, hating that I had to since it meant admitting that my family wasn’t unified, the way we tried to make it seem to the public.
“She’s moving around.”
“You gonna tell me where?” Jesus, this fucking guy.
“Do you really want to know what your mother is up to?” He lowered his phone and angled his body to me, paying full attention. My stomach dropped at that alone. It had to be bad. Did I want to know? No I didn’t, but I probably should know anyway. He seemed to read the answer on my face, because he shrugged slightly as if to say “your funeral.” My stomach clenched again. “She wants the seat.”
It took me a second to process that. “Charles’?”
Dean shot me a look. Obviously Charles’ seat.
“That would be impossible.” I shook my head.
Women didn’t take seats. It was why I was supposed to stay married to Isabel in the first place. Every time I told her to claim it, I’d done it to find out what she wanted and whether or not she was power hungry. She wasn’t. My mother on the other hand…fuck. That wasn’t the kind of news I expected. I wondered if my father knew about this. He couldn’t have, otherwise, he’d have called me a thousand times by now, demanding I stop her from doing whatever stupidity she was thinking about doing. What could she do, really? What would she do to control the import-export system we had going? My stomach churned. If I knew anything, it was that my mother was more money hungry than anything else, and the containers and warehouses and the contacts that came with it, was worth a lot.
“Is she behind the robberies?” I asked.
Dean looked away, eyes on the movie theater. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“Fuck. Me.” I ran a hand over my face. “She’s not even Italian.”
“Obviously,” Dean said, “Especially since Silvio is all but declaring war on her if she tries.”
This would turn into a bloodbath. We both knew it would. I doubted my mother wanted the seat. What she wanted was control, and I knew she’d stop at nothing to get it, even if it meant taking us all down. I shut my eyes momentarily before looking back at the theater.
“What are you going to do about him?” He nodded at the building.
I didn’t know. Any other guy I would’ve at the very least, had roughed up by now, but doing that would mean driving Isabel back into his arms and that would only happen over my dead body. I’d agreed to let her go to her little teacher luncheon, because she seemed genuinely excited about it. That was what Nadia told me. I’d been avoiding Isabel since the night in her bedroom. She made me feel things I shouldn’t, made me want things I shouldn’t, like dig into her past, even more so now that I knew not even Dean could get any details on her life. I shouldn’t want to know.
I should just do what I was supposed to do — stay married on paper until the fateful meeting where I’d take the Bonetti seat, gain control of the import-exports, and then cut her loose. It was the right thing to do. Maybe that was why I wasn’t interested in it. Maybe that was why when I was alone in bed at night and I closed my eyes, it was her brown eyes that popped in my head, her thick dark hair and her plump lips, and her perfect fucking body. It was worse now. Before, it was just a fantasy. Now that I’d seen her naked, that she’d played with her pussy and rubbed her tits in front of me…fuck. Now, it was something else.
“I’m going in there to have a little chat with him.”
“Is this about the theater permits?”
“The asshole still has everything on pause.”
“For the life of me I can’t figure out why you want to renovate that place.” He eyed me. “Is it for your sister?”
I grunted my response. No use in lying to him anyway. “It’s my wedding gift to her.”
“A year later?”
“It’s a big fucking gift.”
“Right.” He started walking away. “I’m out. Good luck with the mayor. And with Isabel.” He shot me a pointed look. “She seems like a nice woman. My advice? Don’t get involved.”
Right. I nodded slowly as he got in his car and drove off. I’d lost count of how many people had now said that to me. Nadia told me the same thing last night. I wasn’t sure why they did it, knowing damn well that telling me not to do something would drive me to do it even more. I turned around and told Tony to keep the engine running as I headed inside the theater and made my way to theater four. They usually watched old movies, the black and white kind that I’d never been a fan of. I stood by the door and watched them. There was a time that I was intimately acquainted with Emily Hamilton. I wasn’t even twenty-one then. She’d been one of the nice ones, though, one of the heartbroken ones who wanted a shoulder to cry on about her own husband’s extramarital affairs. The irony of it all was disgusting.
