He glanced sidelong at Donata. Something passed between them, a flicker of amusement, a quiet understanding. Her smile was spidery. ‘Your niece knows more than I expected.’
I scrunched my hands in my lap as my cheeks flushed with heat. ‘Isn’t it common knowledge?’
Donata was still looking at Jack. She nodded, just once, her eyes slitting as she said, ‘Fidelitate Coniuncti.’
‘Not yet,’ he said, looking around him now.
There was definitely something between them, and it dawned on me with quiet revulsion what it was. I got up, suddenly feeling hot and sticky.
Jack sprang to his feet. ‘Let me explain what happened, Soph.’
I turned on him, trying to ignore the icy wave of Donata’s attention. ‘How can you explain it?’ My sudden shrillness roused some of the others from their conversations. ‘You’re messing around with drugs and the Mafia, and you’re cosying up to her to save your own ass even though you know how dangerous it is, how many people could die if the truce is broken. What could you possibly say that would make any of this OK?’
Jack’s sigh deflated his chest and made him seem smaller. ‘It all comes down to money, Sophie. When I was a young man I had to ask myself, how can I use my talents to make sure I don’t end up on the bottom rung of society, trying to climb out of poverty my whole life? Your father and I never got the chance to make a go of our lives in the right way. All either of us ever had was our own smarts and the ambition to do—’
I bristled. ‘Do not involve my father in this. He has nothing to do with your depraved drug trade!’
Jack clenched a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. ‘Calm down. You’re making a scene.’
‘This whole thing is already a scene!’ I hissed, pointing openly at the cocaine two feet away from us, at Eric’s chomping jaw and guffawing laugh, at the girls pouring champagne on each other and shrieking in the corner. ‘You shouldn’t be here! You should be far away.’
Jack set his jaw. ‘I’m not leaving you.’
‘I insist that you leave me.’ I edged closer, cutting Donata out of the conversation, and dropped my voice. ‘And you should leave these people too, before it’s too late.’
Jack shook his head, his expression suddenly drained of joviality. ‘Sophie, we’re in this together.’
‘My family is not in this with you, Jack,’ I gritted out. ‘When are you going to get that through your head?’
‘Your father built his entire livelihood and his family on the money I gave him for that diner. Gracewell’s might be the culmination of Mickey’s life’s work, but it sits on my trade—’
‘No,’ I spat. ‘Stop!’ I was tired of being swayed this way and that by people with corrupt morals and pretty words. I was tired of hearing people out, of giving the benefit of the doubt only to have it thrown back in my face. This was not what I had come here for, to be leered at by Donata and her cronies, to be lied to by my uncle, to be terrified by the idea that I was tied to him, that someone like him was my anchor.
I turned from him, scanning the exit. Sara was looking at me. The man with the sharp grin was still hovering close by, watching her now. A shiver of unease shot up my spine. She dipped her head and smiled sympathetically. Did she have an overprotective uncle too? Had she been forced into this life the same way the Falcones were raised to be one thing and one thing only? Was she as ashamed of her family as I was? We were the same age, more or less. But she was here now, stuck, and I was determined not to be.
Jack stepped between us and brought his face close to mine. Our eyes – the same eyes – bored into one another. ‘Sophie, we’re family, you and I, and I want you by my side, where I know you’ll be safe. It’s where you belong.’
I blanched. ‘I have a mother,’ I snapped. ‘A mother you almost got killed, and believe me, I’m not about to forget it.’ Anger mounted, rushing and sizzling inside me. ‘I came here to hear you out, but it was a mistake. I’m glad you’re safe. I’m glad my father doesn’t have to grieve for his little brother in prison, but I don’t want anything to do with you. Not now, not ever. I’m saying goodbye. For good.’
I stepped back, but he stepped with me. His cheeks had flushed a rosy hue. ‘Sophie,’ he said, surprisingly gentle, yet intimidating. He was teetering on the edge of something, his eyes flicking from side to side, to Donata, to his cronies. ‘There is no way out now.’
I lifted my chin, steel staring into steel. ‘There is for me, Jack. You might have forged your allegiance,’ I gestured pointedly to Donata, then swirled my hand around, encompassing the club, its hedonism and all the wrongness, ‘but I stand with my mother, and only her.’
A veil of anger snapped Jack’s features back into place. ‘Only her?’ he asked, his eyes slitting. ‘And what about the Falcones?’ He spat the word.
There was an Italian curse from somewhere over his shoulder. Donata.
‘I have nothing to do with the Falcones,’ I insisted.
Jack arched an eyebrow. ‘I was in that warehouse, Sophie. You’re the key to their undoing; you’re the answer to my freedom. And with the Marinos, we’ll be able to do it.’ His voice climbed in pitch and his eyes were manic, darting. ‘We’ll finally be able to rid Chicago of this festering wound of self-righteous fools. Mark them for every mark they put on you. We’ll hang Valentino in his chair. We’ll drown Felice in his own honey. We’ll take Luca Falcone’s head from his body.’