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Thirty-One

 

It felt like whiplash—and quite a role reversal. At my grandfather’s Domenico had been heavily guarded, and as we walked down to the dining room I couldn’t help but notice all eyes were on me.

When we arrived, Giovanni was sitting at the head of the table. He looked up from his drink and smiled. “Much better. You no longer look fresh off the battlefield.”

The rest of the table was empty.

“Where is everyone?” I whispered to Domenico.

“They like to be fashionably late,” Domenico said with a sigh of annoyance.

A chuckle came from Giovanni as he stood and pulled out the two chairs to his right. “Sit here. They’ll be in shortly.”

“Has Manetto or Renata spread the word about Roman?” Domenico asked as he pushed my chair in for me.

Giovanni returned to his seat and swirled the brandy in his glass before taking a slow sip. “I forbade them, so it is possible, though I think Manetto returned to his line of cocaine, and Renata is probably plotting some manipulation.”

Just then ther
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