Page 33 of Bloody Savage God
Uncle Mario shoots me an angry look, no doubt fuming over the audacity of a woman interrupting a conversation between two men, but Riccardo turns to me with what almost looks like a look of relief on his face, though he quickly schools it to a neutral expression.
“Gianna, please accept my condolences for your loss. Leonardo was a good man and I have to believe he was a good father to you, given how well you have done for yourself.”
This has my uncle’s expression darkening even further.
“He was a wonderful father, thank you.” I acknowledge his condolences while trying my best to push down any images of my father. This conversation isn’t truly about him. “I hear you’re looking for a new warehouse in the Etobicoke area, and I may have some suggestions for you, if you’re open to it. Perhaps I can invite you for a drink sometime next week and we can discuss it at a more appropriate venue.”
Riccardo gives me a steady look. “You heard that? Well, I certainly won’t turn down a drink with a beautiful woman.”
I nod with a genuine smile. Riccardo making time for a drink is a good start, since it’s a clear sign he’s acknowledging my new leadership of the Bruno syndicate. He isn’t a man who would make time for anyone less relevant. Especially for such a flimsy reason, though I certainly have a suggestion in mind that I hope the Angelo syndicate will find amicable.
That my uncle hears Riccardo’s acceptance is an added bonus.
After a couple of minutes of polite small talk, Riccardo announces, “It’s time we leave. My apologies that we cannot stay longer.”
“We appreciate you coming. I’ll have my people reach out to arrange a meeting.”
Riccardo nods and strides off. Immediately, Eric moves in beside me, leaving us shoulder to shoulder as my uncle’s eyes fix on me, a forced smile on his lips.
“Gianna, perhaps you should eat something. You look like you’ve hardly gotten a bite down in the past days.”
I’d really like to punch him, but since that would cause quite the scene, I opt for a sugar sweet reply that is drenched in sarcasm instead. “Your concern is too kind, but I’ve taken the time to eat in between work. Still, it would be a shame to let the food go to waste.”
Turning, I walk away, feeling Eric move behind me. This whole bodyguard thing is getting a bit frustrating, even though I appreciate Eric’s commitment. If that is what it is.
The last thing I want is people thinking that I’m turning paranoid after what happened to my dad.
“Why don’t you fix yourself a plate?” I suggest, gesturing toward the buffet table.
“Tiring of my company?” Eric teases, though I see a bit of frustration flicker in my cousin’s eyes.
“Actually, why don’t you use the opportunity to mingle a little bit.”
Eric’s expression darkens. “Seriously, Gianna?”
“You know I need to know what people are talking about.”
Eric gives me a look that promises retribution, but turns and walks off.
When I finally sit down at the head table, I can feel the weight of the stares, the whispers, the speculation. It’s not unexpected. In some way, everyone here is connected to the Bruno syndicate, and my father was the head of the family. Now that he’s gone, everyone is wondering if things will continue to run as they used to. It’s like a company takeover, except that in the mob, power is inherited, rather than bought.
Usually, anyway.
It would have been too much to hope for that just for today, we could have hit pause on what is bound to happen, but I can’t help notice my uncle standing at the back of the room, shaking hands and speaking to some of my father’s closest associates. The old league, if you will. I guess he’s moved on to them now that Riccardo has left.
Eric is talking with a few men nearby. When I catch his eyes, his lips turn down in a frown and he shakes his head. Any doubt I may have had about Uncle Mario positioning himself for a power grab has vanished.
As I shove some appetizers in my mouth, I keep my eyes on him, watching as he uses this opportunity to rally support for himself. It’s enough to make me want to pull my knife and remind him he just lost his best friend and brother-in-law, but escalating too early is a bad idea. Besides, the priest is in attendance and I can only imagine my father would turn in his grave if I’d give the pious man a fright.
Uncle Mario is family, and even if I expected this to happen eventually, expected him to suggest that as a woman I shouldn’t lead the Bruno family, it still stings that he’s back-stabbing me and doesn’t even have the decency to wait until a day after we’ve put my father nine feet under.
Who would have thought? I guess I have more emotion left in me than even I had realized.
Sentimental shit.
Easing my grasp on the fork, I remind myself that I have to protect the interests of the family business, and a scandal at the funeral wouldn’t bring the right attention. As plates empty and people begin to leave, Eric makes his way over to me.
“I assume you watched who Uncle Mario talked to tonight?”
