Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Jordan sighed. “I’ll return him to you safe and sound. I give you my word.” And never mind that he could give no such promise, but he saw nothing wrong with a white lie. Poor guy looked like he needed it.
Nate studied him for a moment. “You better. Go, before I change my mind.”
When Jordan left the restroom and walked toward Ferrara’s tall form, his boss did a double take before giving a small nod. So he did pass muster.
They got into the car, with two bodyguards getting into it after them, too. Jordan did his best to ignore them.
The drive to the estate took a little over an hour. Jordan spent it rehearsing in his head everything he knew about Nate and his relationship with Ferrara. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—mix anything up. He never did.
As the car finally rolled up to a big, gorgeous villa, Jordan took a deep breath.
Showtime.
As soon as they emerged out of the car, they were immediately accosted by a tall, lanky guy. He said something in Italian, his sharp brown eyes fixed on Ferrara. He barely glanced at Jordan, too busy glowering at Ferrara.
Ferrara said something back, also in Italian, looking unbothered by the hostility.
They stared each other down until the stranger finally sighed and hauled Ferrara into a hug, which Ferrara returned after a moment.
Probably one of his cousins, Jordan concluded.
He turned out to be correct when Ferrara looked at him and finally spoke in English, “This is Paolo Ferrara, my cousin. Paolo, this is Nate Parrish.” He didn’t offer any explanation on who “Nate” was, but a knowing gleam appeared in Paolo’s eyes anyway.
Paolo gave Jordan a quick once-over and said something in Italian, smirking.
“Do you not speak English?” Jordan said, pointedly. He’d never appreciated being talked about when he didn’t understand a thing.
“My apologies,” Paolo said with a friendly, sheepish smile. His English was heavily accented but perfectly fine. “I said I could see why Raffa switched teams for you.”
Remembering that Nate was supposed to be a friendly guy, Jordan smiled. “Thanks. Could you show us our rooms? We’re pretty tired after the flight.”
Paolo nodded. “Sure, let’s go.” He led them inside the large house. “Most of the wedding guests haven’t arrived yet. It’ll be only family tonight.”
“Family?” Ferrara said, his face inscrutable.
Paolo shot him a look Jordan couldn’t read. “Not everyone, of course. My father, Zio Franco, Gustavo, me and you. Andrea should arrive by the evening. The women will arrive tomorrow. They took Bianca for a bachelorette party in Milano.”
“Hm,” Ferrara said. “What about Damiano?”
Another strange look passed over Paolo’s face. “We don’t know yet. He said he might make it to supper, but it’s possible that he’ll arrive only tomorrow. There’s some mess with the bankers in Napoli that requires his supervision.”
“Isn’t Andrea responsible for Naples?” Ferrara said.
Paolo shrugged. “He is. But you know him. He’s not very good at dealing with the bankers. Too blunt, no finesse. Damiano is much better at that kind of stuff.” He laughed a little. “He’s much better at everything.”
Hmm.
Jordan kept his face bored, pretending that he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. Although Paolo masked it pretty well, there was an undercurrent of bitterness in his voice. Jordan wondered why both of the cousins seemed to dislike Damiano so much.
He would find out soon enough, he supposed.
Chapter 3
The dinner that evening was… interesting.
There was a peculiar mix of tension, rivalry, and hostility in these people’s interactions, nothing like a normal family functioned, but at the same time, they all clearly were closer than your average cousins would be.
Jordan observed the strange family dynamic, pretending to be engrossed in the food—which was delicious. He’d always been fond of Italian cuisine, so he really appreciated the chance to try authentic Italian food.
Franco and Sergio, the two elderly uncles of Ferrara, conversed exclusively in Italian and completely ignored Jordan, which would be pretty offensive if he really were Ferrara’s boyfriend.
Paolo and Gustavo, as the younger generation, were polite enough to speak in English, though they often forgot themselves until Ferrara reminded them to speak in English—then they smiled sheepishly at Jordan and switched to English again. It was interesting that they both seemed to subconsciously respect Ferrara and listen to him, even though they hadn’t seen him in over a decade. But then again, Raffaele Ferrara had the same effect on all his employees, and it was no wonder his cousins were no different.
Paolo was the more easygoing cousin while Gustavo was harder to read, but neither seemed capable of murdering their cousin. In fact, they seemed surprisingly normal, but then again, it was entirely possible that Jordan was allowing his preconceived ideas about the mafia to affect him, and real life was nothing like Hollywood movies.
The dinner was coming to an end when there was the sound of approaching footsteps. A man entered the dining room, and all conversations came to a halt.