Impossible Odds

32

Nothing good could come of being with Giada. And as for Naz, if I was going to get him off my back about the girl, I would need to give him another reason for my irregular behavior. I wasn’t entirely ready to confront him about my mother, but it would seem I had no choice.“I appreciate your concern, but there’s no need to worry. I have Naz under control.” If there was such a thing. Confronting him with what I’d learned would buy me some time to manage the situation with Giada. Once we received our shipment at the New York pier and got Giada back home, things could go back to normal, and I could get rid of this pounding headache. *** I spent the next morning in the gym working out my frustrations. Often, I swam or jogged on the beach, but with Giada at the house, I didn’t want to be out of reach if there were problems. I spent an hour on the heavy bag working combinations, then did some weights before hitting the treadmill for some low-key cardio to wind down. Just as I started up the treadmill, Giada came strolling into the gym with a yoga mat under her arm and a grin on her face as if she were at a spa retreat. “I hope you don’t mind, Santino said I could use the gym,” she called over the sound of my rhythmic footfalls. I continued jogging, attempting to ignore her as she bent over to roll out her mat, showing off every curve and dredging up memories of her naked body beneath me. f**k. Was I so weak-willed that I couldn’t finish my workout in her presence? I trained my eyes ahead, staring at myself sternly in the mirror, but there she was in the background, my peripheral vision just making out her twisting form as she stretched. It was too much. I had to look. Her stretching morphed into an array of artful yoga poses that taunted me as if I were a kid salivating outside an ice cream shop. She progressed through a series of movements once, then twice through. When she started again, I hit my limit. My restraint snapped. I slammed my hand against the emergency stop button and stormed from the room to prevent myself from wrestling her to the ground and f*****g her into next week. I took a long shower with water so cold I expected shards of ice to start bouncing off the shower floor. The chill helped cool my blood and focus my mind to prepare for my meeting with Naz. I couldn’t afford to be distracted in his presence. I managed to eat a quick breakfast without running into Giada, then made the short drive to Naz’s house. It had always been convenient to live so near one another, but now I wished for a bit more space between us. At least with security, I had a few minutes’ warning when he did surprise me with a visit, assuming they weren’t slow like last time. Naz’s house was more like a fortress. He had more security at his place than there was at the border. I understood why, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to live like that. I appreciated the luxuries this life afforded us, but when it came at the cost of freedom and privacy, it was no longer so alluring. “Ah, Primo, you’re here. Good, we can get started.” Naz folded the newspaper he was reading and motioned for me to join him. I’d found him on his back patio overlooking the enormous pool on the side of his house and the ocean beyond it. He was still in a plush robe after swimming laps and had the remnants of a smoothie and coffee on the table. “Can I have Marta get you something to eat or drink?” “No, thank you. I had breakfast before I came over.” He waved his hand in a gesture that said, suit yourself. “I trust our guest is adapting to her new situation.” “She appears to be more adaptable than most,” I answered vaguely. From what I could tell, she still refused to see herself as a pawn, but I didn’t want to explain that to Naz. His lips thinned. “Now that we have her, it’s time to reach out to Enzo and communicate our demands. The shipment will be reaching New York shores in a week, and we need access to that port. I take it they are aware we have her?” “Yes.” “Good. Perhaps I’ll contact him tomorrow. It would be helpful to us if he’s given plenty of time to squirm before I speak to him.” He looked out over the pool and beyond to the serene shoreline. “What other news do you have from the city?” “The Chinese still haven’t established new leadership. Two factions are battling for control and so concentrated on their internal struggle that they shouldn’t be an issue.” “And the Russians?” “I don’t think they care as long as we stay off their territory. You know they’re only ever in it for themselves and don’t ally with anyone.” Juan Carlos had initially tried to gain access to the Russian ports in order to avoid dealing with the Italians. He claimed he would be able to use his recently acquired contacts to smooth over a deal, but his efforts had failed. Naz’s blind ambitions had made him overconfident about his brother’s chances of success. I’d known we had a snowball’s chance in hell, but I wasn’t about to get my head blown off for voicing that opinion. The Russians never worked with anyone; there was no reason they would change their habits now. Naz huffed in agreement. “That’s the problem with these other organizations. They don’t understand like we do in the south how to work together with your competitors such that both parties prosper. They’re too busy fighting one another to see the bigger picture.” Seeing my opening, I took the plunge and confronted Naz about my parents. “Actually, on the topic of competitors, I did learn something interesting from a conversation I had with your brother.” Naz casually picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. He looked at me patiently, but he was stewing with curiosity beneath the surface. “We figured out a surprising connection I might have had with Martín Alvarez, something that I don’t believe comes as any shock to you.” He continued to stare at me but otherwise gave nothing away. “Were you ever going to tell me there was more than simple charity behind you taking me in? That Alvarez was my father, and you had both my parents killed?” By some miracle, I kept my voice devoid of emotion. It would have been dangerous if Naz began to doubt my loyalty, so I had to broach the subject with the utmost caution. “Is this what’s behind your disobedience? Why you brought the wrong girl? Were you defying me because you felt betrayed?” He was wary— curious but not defensive—which was good. “This has nothing to do with her.” I had to deny it, but I was hoping that’s what he would believe. He studied me, picked apart every tiny detail to assess my motives before he continued.