What was that from?
“There were keys in the bowl near the door,” she said.
Corrado looked her way. “And?”
“I just ... thought it looked like someone had recently left and planned to be back or something.”
“Or something,” he replied.
“Do you have a roommate here?”
Corrado laughed. “I own this penthouse, and we use it when we’re in the city to visit my family.”
“We?”
He cleared his throat, setting the glass to the counter a little harder than was necessary. She could tell just by the look in his eyes that moody Corrado was back—oh, he still looked the same, sure, still devastatingly handsome, but that attitude screamed back off without him even needing to say a word.
Was it because of this place?
Or her asking questions?
“Don’t you have something else to do?” Corrado asked. “It was a sixteen-hour drive, find a place to sleep.”
“So, no one else lives here, then? I don’t want to wake up to someone—”
“I have to make some calls.”
With that said, Corrado moved around the kitchen island, and crossed the space. He passed her by in the doorway without as much as a look in her direction, and that only left Ginevra more confused than ever.
He’d said we.
She heard it.
What did that mean?
• • •
“Fuck, thanks, I’m sure she’ll be grateful to have something to wear,” Ginevra heard Corrado say, his voice muted from how far it was traveling through the penthouse. “I’ll take her out in a couple of days, or something, and let her grab the rest, but at least she’ll have something to wear until then.”
“No worries.”
At the new male voice, Ginevra left the safety of the library where she had been mulling over the events of her life that led her to this place, and trying to find a book to take to bed at the same time. She couldn’t do anything to change her circumstances at the moment, so she was content to distract her mind until something happened.
She lingered in the hallway as the conversation near the entry of the penthouse continued on between Corrado, and the newcomer. He hadn’t said anyone would be coming over, so she wondered if it was maybe the other person who lived here.
“You want me to let Ma and Papa know you’re here, or what?”
“I’ll call,” Corrado said. “They were expecting me, anyway. I just showed up a little earlier, that’s all.”
“Right, and they won’t ask questions at all.”
“I can’t answer all of them even if they do.”
“Yeah, I get you. The League, or ...?”
“No,” Corrado murmured. “Do you want a drink, or do you have somewhere to be?”
“I could have one drink, but I need to head out soon. A meeting tonight with some of the Capos, you know. It never ends.”
“You always were a better made man than you were an assassin, Chris. I’m glad you figured that out before it was too late.”
Chuckles echoed down the hallway. Ginevra came to the end, and peered around carefully so she wouldn’t be seen. For a second, she thought she was seeing doubles as she found the two men standing at the end of the entrance hallway.
Like mirrors of one another.
It took her a second.
Then, two.
Twins, she realized.
Corrado had an identical twin.
If she hadn’t known the clothes Corrado was wearing earlier, she might have needed to look twice to try and tell the difference between the two. They stood the same facing one another, arms crossed over their chests, and features looking as though they’d been cut from stone. Corrado’s brother—Chris, wasn’t it?—wore his hair a bit longer, and his three-piece suit was a contrast against the simple black slacks and silk shirt his twin wore.
There were differences.
But not many.
And they were surface, things. Clothes, hairstyle, and so forth. Nothing really physical about them was different, or at least, not that Ginevra could tell from this far away.
“Does he know,” Chris started to ask, “that there’s a chick here, I mean?”
Corrado shook his head. “Didn’t mention that ... yet.”
“Probably should, man.”
“Yeah, I will.”
Ginevra was too caught up in the fact that the two looked so similar that she missed part of their conversation. She didn’t really understand what they were talking about, now.
“We have a guest,” Chris said, his gaze drifting to Ginevra.
She was quick to dart back around the corner, but not before Corrado turned, and laid eyes on her, too.
Shit.
She caught that look he had.
Intense, again.
Contemplative.
Like he didn’t know what to make of her. It was the same stare he’d had in the car, and she didn’t know what to make of it. Or how it made her feel, or why she felt anything about it at all, really.
Why did it feel like everything was changing? That this was going to end up being more than just her hiding away from her half-brothers while New York waged a mafia war?
“Yeah,” she heard Corrado say, “I think I found trouble with that one.”
“Seems like you find trouble a lot, man.”
“That’s unfair, and—”
“And you’re not a liar, so.”
“You know what,” Corrado said, “fuck the drink, get out.”
Chris laughed loudly. “I missed you, Corrado.”
“Can’t say the same.”
“Lies.”
Ginevra slipped back down the hallway, and into the library.
No one came to find her.
She didn’t mind.
19.
Corrado
“How long do you think you’ll need?” Dare asked.
“A couple months, maybe. I’ll let you know if I need more time off.”
Dare made a noise on the other end of the call, but didn’t question Corrado on why he needed time off. That was thing about The League—being an independent contractor, essentially, allowed him more freedom than other members who went up on the auctions, and signed years of their lives away to buyers.
Corrado would never do that.
No one owned him.
“I thought you wanted to do that upcoming job with Alessio. The political hit in Albania, I mean,” Dare said, “because this will fall in that time frame, according to the details I have for that assignment.”
“It didn’t need two people on it.”
He just wanted to go with Les.
Things changed sometimes.
It couldn’t be helped.
Dare cleared his throat, asking, “Things are fine, aren’t they? You’re not ... having trouble with anything, are you?”
Corrado almost laughed.
That was about as deep as Dare cared to get with one of his people. He didn’t care if they had personal shit going on in their lives as long as it didn’t mess with The League, and what the organization was doing. On the opposite end of the coin, Dare and Cree were some of the few people who knew the complexities of Alessio and Corrado’s relationship.
So, when Dare asked something like that, he was really asking about Alessio and Corrado without outright saying it. Corrado wasn’t stupid.