“I think Mr. Reynold’s eye is still twitching because of all the money he’s losing today,” I said with a grin.
Remo’s mouth twitched, but a smile didn’t find its way onto his face. This party wasn’t his style. Too many guests, too much attention. It fit me perfectly, however.
Diego strolled into the ballroom, already dressed in a black suit. His eyes took in the many tables and flower decorations. He shook his head. “When I asked for a celebration, I didn’t mean you should host a fucking ball.”
“It’s more fun this way, especially because it’ll piss off the right people.”
I fell silent when my younger brother Adamo sauntered into the ballroom. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?” I asked Remo.
“Because I didn’t know,” he said with a strange note to his voice.
Adamo was supposed to spend another month in the Famiglia. I hadn’t seen him in ten months, since Fabiano’s wedding. Despite his promise, he hadn’t visited when Kiara had given birth to Massimo five months ago. He seemed to enjoy his time with the Famiglia. Luca must have really done a good job whipping him into shape.
Kiara spotted him, too, and rushed over to him, hugging him tightly like a long lost son.
“Let’s welcome him,” Nino said, heading toward him. Remo and I followed a few steps behind our brother.
The moment Adamo spotted us, his smile wavered, and guilt flickered across his face. He looked down at my wrists, which were covered by sleeves. I was still pissed at him for helping our crazy-ass mother escape, not so much because of those ridiculous scars from slashing my wrists. That day could have ended far worse.
Nino touched Adamo’s shoulder. My little brother had grown. He was now Nino’s and my height and had even grown something that resembled a beard. Surprisingly, it made him look older than seventeen, and not ridiculous like so many teens that suddenly sported facial hair. I almost didn’t recognize him.
“Why didn’t you tell us that you were coming home? One of us could have picked you up,” Nino said.
Remo and I just stood there. I was pissed, but Remo’s feelings regarding Adamo were an entirely different matter. When he’d allowed our little brother to go to the Famiglia to toughen up, he’d probably expected that he’d be back soon. Yet, after almost one year with the Famiglia, Adamo still seemed content. Few people could see past Remo’s cruel mask, but for me, it was obvious that Adamo’s distance felt like a stab to his heart.
“I took an Uber, don’t worry,” Adamo said with a shrug, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Serafina and Leona came over as well, hugging him.
“Hey stranger,” Serafina said, then her eyes darted to Remo, and something shifted on her face. She, too, could see it.
“An Uber? Why didn’t you steal a car like you used to do?” I asked, softening my words with a teasing grin. I didn’t want this to blow up today, not when the Bazzolis expected a splendid feast. Gemma would be devastated if I had to cancel this last minute because Remo went berserk on Adamo and whoever else looked his way.
“Nah, not my style anymore. Luca broke two of my ribs when I tried it in New York.”
A muscle in Remo’s chin twitched and Serafina casually walked over to him and leaned against him. With her so close, he’d hesitate to lose his shit.
Fabiano sauntered in, finally done beating the shit out of our debtors, and shoved Adamo lightly. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about getting a new tattoo, Adamo.”
We all knew what kind of tattoo he was referring to. His voice had been joking, but his eyes were harsh. He knew Remo as well as I did. If it wasn’t for the twins and Serafina, Adamo’s absence would have hit Remo much harder.
Remo stepped out of Serafina’s grip and clapped Adamo’s chest, right over his heart. “Maybe he already has. Does the Famiglia credo mark your skin yet, little brother?”
I clamped my hand down on Remo’s shoulder without a word. Diego was heading toward the doors where his family had just appeared, everyone except for Gemma, who would enter with me later.
Adamo held his gaze. “I have the markings of the Camorra on my wrist. I can’t be both Camorrista and a soldier of the Famiglia. Our brother Growl had his Camorra tattoo removed before he swore loyalty to Luca.”
What the mighty fuck?
Remo’s face was like the sky before a hurricane. I grabbed Adamo’s arm and dragged him away. From the corner of my eye, I saw Serafina usher Greta toward Remo. She was dressed in her favorite tutu, which she rarely took off, and hurried to her dad. Remo was about to chase after Adamo and me when he noticed his girl and froze. Fabiano still stayed close to him, just in case, while Nino followed us.
Thank fuck for Serafina’s quick thinking. Greta was the valium to Remo’s burning rage.
I shoved Adamo into a restroom. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you come all the way from New York only to twist the knife in Remo’s chest?”
I was so pissed I wanted to smash his stupid face in.
Adamo shook his head with a hint of guilt. “I got mad when Remo suggested I had the Famiglia tattoo.”
“Can you blame him?” Nino said as he entered. “You’ve made yourself scarce these last few months. New York was meant as a temporary thing, a way to give you more stability. It wasn’t meant as more than that.”
Adamo ran a hand through his, as usual, messy hair. “I know. I’ll return in one month.”
He didn’t sound like he wanted to, though.
“You’d better,” I said. I was dead serious. I’d fly over to New York and drag him home personally if I had to. Not because
