Page 93 of Mafia Billionaire's Surprise Baby
“Not exactly.” I have no freaking clue. But it’s something alright. I shake my head, physically trying to shake off the sensation of guilt that’s crawling up my spine. “How much longer?”
“About four hours until we get to Dublin,” Sal says softly. “I’ve checked in with Elio. He agrees that we need to keep as low of a profile as possible.”
“That goes without saying,” I snort. “Why would we walk into Ireland and announce that we’re there? Seems kind of stupid.”
“I think he was less worried about that, and more concerned that since we met up with one of your ex-boyfriends in France, there would be some consequences related to us showing up unannounced.”
I snorted. “It’s not unannounced. They still think we’re dead, so it’s not announced at all.”
“Only if Gabriel doesn’t say anything,” Sal reprimands me.
My temper flares. “Which he won’t. Because he would be sacrificing a trade deal to sell his dumb magic mushroom jelly.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Oh, so you’re not going to trust that I know what I’m talking about?”
Sal’s nostrils flare. “Gia. That isn’t fair. I didn’t mean…”
“I know what you did and did not mean, Salvatore,” I snap at him. It’s not a lie, but it’s also not the truth. At this point I’m just mad, and I’m ready to pick a fight. “And it sounds like for all the talk you’ve done about thinking that I’m great and all that bullshit, you’re just like the rest of them.”
“Gia. That isn’t true. You’re grasping at straws now.”
“Yeah well. I’d rather grasp at straws than be underestimated,” I snarl.
Sal’s eyes narrow. “What is this really coming from?”
“You don’t think that I can argue with you without it being about something else? What, Sal. You think I’m illogical? Too emotional?”
He’s definitely getting pissed off now. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Gia. You’re the one making assumptions.”
“And I’m making them because you’re showing me exactly what they all did. I’m not assuming anything if it’s the truth, Sal!”
Abruptly, Sal stands. His hands grip the wood of the dining table so hard I think it might shatter.
“I am going to speak to the captain about our port of entry,” he says from an impressively clenched jaw. “When you feel like talking to me like a fucking adult, I’ll be ready.”
“Sal…”
But he’s gone.
I hiss out a breath. The adrenaline and anger are fading from me. Did I overreact to him?
Maybe.
Is it something I’m beginning to feel really, really bad about?
Also maybe.
It’s all just more evidence though that something is wrong with me. Instead of coming up these stairs and sitting down and enjoying the nice breakfast this nice man set out for me, I decided to pitch a fit and blow up over what is admittedly probably not a very big deal.
Ugh.
I settle into the plush seat of the yacht, my fingers tapping the edge of the table. My phone is out in front of me, and when it rings, I startle.
It’s Caterina. “Hi, favorite sister of mine,” I say into the phone.
“Spoken like someone with zero other sisters, or sisters-in-law.”