Sempre: Redemption (Forever Series #2)(110)

Tunnel vision fixed Carmine’s gaze on Carlo. He remained in his chair, slouching casually as he swirled the scotch around in his glass, staring right back. His face was a mask of indifference, but his eyes told a much different story. There was a challenge in them. He dared Carmine to say something to him.

Seconds passed—long, infinite seconds of tension and inner turmoil—before Salvatore broke up the sudden standoff. “Gentlemen, this is unnecessary. We’re all family here.”

The men lowered their weapons at once, concealing them again as they retook their seats. Low grumbling vibrated the room, their words indiscernible, but hostility infused the air, smothering Carmine. They would have shot him easily, the simple flick of a finger stealing his life.

He felt like he was going to throw up as that sunk in.

“Carlo, Carmine,” Sal said, looking between the two of them. “Outside now.”

Sal walked out but Carmine remained rooted to his spot for a moment, his eyes following Carlo as he sauntered from the room behind the boss. Carmine hesitantly followed them, knowing he had no choice, and the three took seats on some tan chairs on the outside patio beside the inground pool. Sal called for Abby to bring them drinks before dismissing her with a wave of the hand, ordering her to remain in her room for the rest of the evening.

It didn’t escape Carmine’s notice that Carlo’s eyes followed the girl as she scampered away, his gaze that of a predator stalking its prey.

Fucking sick.

When she was gone, Salvatore raised his eyebrows curiously. “How are things, Principe?”

The question rubbed Carmine the wrong way. Just f**king peachy, thanks for asking. “Fine.”

“Fine,” Salvatore echoed, glancing between the men briefly before settling back on Carmine. “And what’s going on between the two of you?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? I can feel the tension rolling off of you. You’re hiding something. What happened earlier to cause the argument in my parlor?”

Carmine said nothing. Regardless if he remained silent or told his side of it, he knew he would be on the losing end.

Salvatore realized he wasn’t going to get an answer from him and turned to Carlo. “Maybe you’ll be more forthcoming.”

“I was just put off by young DeMarco’s attitude,” Carlo said. “I’ve never heard someone speak so vulgar and disrespectfully.”

Salvatore turned back to Carmine curiously, but before he could speak, unexpected laughter rang out beside them. The sound of it nearly made Carmine’s heart stop. He quickly looked in the direction it had come from, in utter disbelief as his eyes fell upon his father. Vincent DeMarco stood about twenty feet away at the corner of the house, dressed from head to toe in all black. He wore a new Italian suit, which was covered by a long trench coat, sweeping at his ankles and exposing a pair of black dress shoes that shone under the moonlight. His dark hair was slicked back, his face freshly shaved.

“Now Carlo, you know that’s not true,” Vincent said, taking a few steps toward them. “You act like this organization is filled with saints. My son’s hardly the first to have a smart mouth.”

“Ah, Vincent,” Salvatore said, confusion evident in his voice. His shoulders were tense, his expression hard as if chiseled in stone. It didn’t happen often, but the Boss had been caught off guard. “I was wondering if I’d ever see you again.”

None of them knew how to react. Carmine just stared at his father as Carlo placed his hand on his gun under the table.

“You had to have known we’d see each other again, Sal. It would be rude of me to take permanent leave and not say good-bye to you.”

“True.” Salvatore eyed him cautiously, desperate for the upper hand. “Come, have a seat. We’ll chat.”

Vincent lingered, slowly shaking his head. “I’m fine where I am.”

Sal subtly shifted in his seat to get a better view. “You know, you’ve been gone for a while now. I was worried something happened to you.”

“I’m sure you were.”

“I was, honestly,” Sal said. “Especially when you skipped out on the trial. I was deeply concerned what that meant for your future.”

“Ah, yes, that. I figured there was no use going through the charade.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised, Vincent. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised.”

“Well, you always did know me well,” he said. “It’s a pity I never really knew you, though. I thought I did, but I was wrong.”

Sal laughed, a tinge of nervousness to his forced chuckle. “What you see is what you get with me.”

“I wish that were true,” Vincent said. “I always thought you were a man of your word, a man who saw the world as black and white. I never realized how much you skirted in the gray area to suit your needs.”

“What makes you think such a ridiculous thing?”

“Haven Antonelli.”

A gasp involuntarily flew from Carmine’s lips at the sound of her name. Salvatore’s gaze flickered to him, anger in his eyes, before his attention shifted right back to Vincent. “What does that girl have to do with this?”

“Everything,” Vincent said. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”