Chapter 22 · Same Ring

Nico's hand is shaking when he tries to get the ring past my knuckle.

"Hold still," he says, like it's my fault.

"You're the one shaking."

"I'm not shaking."

"Nico. Your hand is literally—"

The door bangs open before I can finish. No knock. Just Vito's shoulder hitting wood, and a manila folder hitting the floor between us, photos sliding out across the hardwood like he threw a losing hand of cards.

"Boss." Vito doesn't look at me. He never looks at me. "You need to see this before the Marchetti thing tonight."

Nico doesn't let go of my hand. That's the first thing I notice. He's still got the ring pinched between two fingers, half on, half off, and he doesn't drop it to deal with his own family walking in on us.

"It can wait."

"It can't." Vito finally looks at me then, and there's something in his face I don't like. Pity, maybe. Or warning. "Tell him, or I will."

"Tell me what?" I pull my hand back.