Chapter 136

“All right,” Christian says, unconsciously straightening his shoulders as his face and his voice fall into a much more business-y sort of mode. He reaches for the salt, the pepper, and the sugar, placing all three next to each other on the table, presumably to help illustrate his plans. “Three different parties, yes? Now, two of them are in the same family. Which ones?”

“The salt and the pepper,” I say instantly, tapping each.

“What?” Christian asks, spinning his head to look at me like I’m crazy. “No, the salt and the sugar. They’re the same color.”

I give him the same look. “Christian, salt and pepper are…a very famous duo. They go together.”

He stares at me for a second and then shakes his head as if to clear it. “Whatever. My metaphor. The salt and the sugar,” he says, moving them together to one side, “are the Romano family. At first glance, they’re united – completely the same. And only we know that they’re actually two separate parties, yes?”

I nod, seeing his point now and going on with it.

“The pepper,” he says, “is the Bonetti family. The other two…we will worry about later. For now, the Romanos and the Bonetti’s are our focus.”

He looks at me again to make sure that I’m following and I nod, assuring him that I do.

He nods again, sharp, and looks back at the spices, tapping the salt and the sugar with his finger. “Yesterday, at my meeting with my father, I had him tell me what he wanted in exchange for me stepping out and starting my own business – my own branch of the family, really.”

My eyebrows grow up because I didn’t expect him to take that tactic.

Christian moves his eyes to me and sees my surprise. “Right,” he says, nodding. “It’s not actually what I want. But I did it because I wanted my father to ask me for something – to give me a task. Knowing what your enemy wants – that’s always useful and information that’s usually guarded. But if you go in on your knees, rather than a position of power, offering to give it to someone…” he shrugs, “frequently, they don’t see your real motives.”

My brows arch further because…I never thought of that. And I knew Christian was good but I didn’t realize that he was something of a mastermind at strategy. “So, what did he want?”

“He wants Bonetti taken out,” Christian replies, moving his hand to tap the pepper now. And then he reaches back to grab the sugar, placing it close to the pepper. “And he wants me to do it. As homage, payment.”

“I’m glad we’re the sugar,” I whisper passively, nodding and studying the pieces on the table.

Christian sends me a pleased little smirk but moves on. “But here’s the thing. Now that I have this request from my father, I’m actually the one with a great deal of power. Because I have what both of these men want. I have the power to take out Bonetti, as my father desires. And I have the power to let Bonetti live, as Bonetti – obviously – desires. And I have information – the news that Romano has essentially taken a hit out on Bonetti, and tasked their middle son, me, with the job.”

My eyebrow arches as Christian moves the sugar deftly between sides, demonstrating his real power here. Though he went to his father pretending to be a pawn, he’s actually the one with something to offer to both.

“So…you’re going to…” I frown, putting the pieces together. Christian pauses, letting me figure it out. “If your father is the secret enemy,” I say quietly, reaching out to tap the salt. “You’re going to…go to Bonetti with this information?”

“Yes,” Christian answers quietly, looking directly at me now. “That’s what I’m doing today. Going through his lower-level guys, trying to get a meeting with him.”

My eyes go wide. “And you seriously want me to believe that that’s not dangerous?”

Christian grins, I think enjoying this part of his world. “Don’t underestimate Bonetti’s greed and curiosity, Iris,” he replies. “He’ll want to know what happened to you, and he’ll want to know why I want to talk to him. The chances of him taking me out without hearing me out are…slim. Besides, I won’t get to him today, and he won’t let any of his lower-level guys kill me – he wouldn’t face my dad’s wrath like that.”

“God damn it, Chris,” I say with a sigh, sitting back in my chair and folding my arms over my chest, shaking my head at him. “You say this all so casually – talk about the possibilities of someone murdering you like it’s mundane.”

“It kind of is at this point,” Christian says with a shrug, even though he holds my gaze seriously. “I’ve been operating under this threat for…years, Iris. I became a target when I was a teenager – first by my brothers, who absolutely did not want another son in the house. And then, as I grew older, by anyone who saw me as leverage to get what they wanted. It sounds mundane because I’ve lived with it every day of my life.”

I exhale slowly, my head drifting from side to side. “But I have not.”

Christian nods, understanding. “I’m good at this,” he says, cupping my cheek with his palm. “And that’s not…hubris, my love. That’s me knowing this world. Again, I’m asking for your trust.”

I study my husband for a moment and then nod, letting him know that he has it.

He nods as well, turning back to the spices. “So,” he says, “eventually, we make a big move. We tell Bonetti about my father’s order to take him out and we offer him an option.” Christian moves the sugar next to the pepper now, demonstrating how they team up. “Either I execute my father’s order, or…we work together and mount a major offensive against the man who ordered him killed.” He pushes the sugar and the pepper together across the table.

“Against the salt,” I whisper, watching as the sugar and the pepper together bang into the salt, knocking it over and spraying grains all over the table in a way that looks suddenly…gruesome.

Christian drops his hand from the table and looks at me, giving me time to react.

I raise my eyes to his. “And what happens after that?”

He shrugs. “We let the chips fall for a moment, observe where they lay. And then we make our next moves fast, seizing power in the chaos.”

“Does that mean…more death?” I ask, my voice soft.

“Probably.” Christian answers immediately, holding my gaze, unwilling to lie but ready to take my censure if it comes. But I don’t give it, simply looking back down at the table and studying the pieces.

“And at the end,” I ask quietly. “Where do you stand.”

I feel his finger under my chin and turn as Christian tugs my face towards him. “Next to you,” he replies, quiet. “At the top. My father will be dead; I’ll take the family. Bonetti, Marino – they’ll fall in line or I’ll take them out too. It’s a coup, Iris, and not a bloodless one. But…at the end of it, there will be peace. And good things will come from it.”

He looks at me steadily and I honestly believe him – I can’t help it.

But I frown, still not able to picture it. “And what will our lives look like?”

He frowns at me, just a touch. “What do you mean?”

I raise my hand, wrapping it around his fingers and tugging them away from where they still hold my chin. “I saw the way your father’s family operates, Chris,” I say quietly, staring into his eyes. “All that yelling at the table? The way he spoke to Bianca, and me, and Lucy?” Slowly, I shake my head. “If that’s what a mafia family is like, then that is not what I want.”

Christian frowns at me. “Do you seriously think me capable of that?”

I hesitate for a second before telling Christian what I really think. “Your father is cruel, Christian, but you’re a great deal like him – powerful, ambitious. I’m sure that in his younger years he looked more like you than he does now – that he was not always as miserable as he is. I’m sure, maybe with his first wife, there was…goodness there. But…power corrupts.”

Christian takes a deep breath, nodding. “I can see why you would think that,” he says quietly. “But I assure you…my father was always precisely the man he is. He didn’t have thirteen years of peace to show him that things could be different.”

I smile a little, touched that Christian thinks the source of any goodness in him comes from our childhood together. But I press on, wanting an answer to my question. “So?” I ask, straightening my shoulders. “What do you think our future lives look like?”

He shrugs, looking down at the spices and pushing them around idly. “We have to decide that together, Iris,” he murmurs before looking back at me. “But I imagine a home. Peaceful, happy, with lots of friends and visitors. And maybe…some kids?”

His voice is hesitant and he raises an eyebrow at me, asking silently if that’s what I want too.

And I burst out laughing, shaking my head at him. “What,” I say, grinning at his confusion, “are you going to be the third Romano in twenty-four hours to ask me if I’m pregnant? Honestly, Christian, your entire family is baby crazy, but I didn’t expect you to be caught up in it.”

Christian’s face falls in surprise but then he shocks me by bursting into a smile and looking down at my stomach. “Wait, do you really think you could be?”