Turning Point||Book 2

44: Romano.

The moment my plane touched down in Bologna and came to a halt, I wasted no time disembarking and heading straight to find Ottavio's car. It wasn't a Ford but a Land Rover, and I might have missed it if he hadn't been leaning against the door, looking pleased to see I'd arrived in one piece.

I had called him to reschedule my arrival and our appointment because of the unexpected meeting with Caleb. Ottavio now understood the extent of the connection between Angelo, Santo, and Salvatore, as well as their high demand for Xenia like she was the only woman left in the world.

Ottavio new look was a shaved head, opting for a buzz cut. I might have been curious about the change, but I had more pressing matters on my mind.

"Is Marco here yet?"

He gave my shoulder a reassuring tap, a substitute for a hug. "Yes. Though I don't understand why he brought his wife."

As if my day wasn't already bad enough, I now had to endure the unnerving presence of the couple with their shameless public display of affection. Marco, my cousin, was specifically Federico's son. And I had scheduled this meeting for a purpose. The more of my cousins and uncles I could persuade with my little white lies, the more they spread their sentiments, and the more allies I had against Angelo and his father.

Settling into the car, Ottavio drove me to the Family restaurant—a squatty building with lucrative business prospects we had acquired from the previous owners over a decade ago.

"Do you have a plan?" Ottavio queried as he parked in the underground garage, observing me as I retrieved my bagged shirt and suit from the backseat.

I had tasked him with bringing them from my quarters because I adamantly refused to go there myself, and even more so opposed to meeting my cousin looking like I had been through hell. I didn't want anyone speculating about the extent of my troubles, even though he'd know it when I start talking.

"Besides groveling for an alliance?" I shook my head, tossing aside my old shirt and slipping on the perfectly ironed replacement. As I buttoned it up, I said, "Santo has likely spun the most damaging tales about my defiance. A simple explanation should rectify this."

Ottavio hummed and extracted the key from the ignition. "An explanation that you're in love with the girl? The enemy?"

I froze mid-button, feeling heat creep up my spine. I had to clear my throat before meeting his probing gaze. It wasn't that he labeled her an enemy to the family, because that was true. The issue was his insinuation that I was in love with her, and he wouldn't stop scrutinizing me until I confirmed or denied it.

I did neither, choosing to shrug on my suit. "Are you coming with me or just going to keep staring like you've got a better outfit for the occasion?"

"You're hopeless," Ottavio muttered, opening the door and stepping out. I fell in step beside him, adjusting my appearance in the hazy reflection against the car. "If you don't end up marrying this girl, I'll personally beat the crap out of you for making me waste months covering up your mess."

"Before I take that plunge for the second time, you deserve to taste it at least once. So shut the hell up and lead the way."

We both chuckled as we entered the building, Ottavio striding confidently towards their table. My gaze wandered to the open dining area, where tables were neatly arranged. Conversations and laughter hummed in the background. I trailed behind Ottavio, only paying minimal attention to the surroundings as I adjusted my suit.

Finally, I laid eyes on my cousin Marco and his wife Chiara. Marco stood up, stepping out of his seat to acknowledge me, and we shook hands before he sat back down.