Free Thin Lives (Donati Bloodlines #3) by Bethany-Kris

think he is.
    If it doesn’t seem right, then it isn’t.
    Emma’s words whispered a little louder in his head. Calisto wasn’t entirely sure why, but he thought they might be directed toward his uncle. From the very moment he had seen Affonso after he woke up, things just felt off to Calisto.
    Affonso was not who he remembered. It was little things wrapped up in small issues, to be sure. His uncle’s attitude, his lack of apathy and trust. The way he controlled the most basic daily routines around Calisto, as if he didn’t think he could do it on his own. How he kept a distance between them, when he had never done that before.
    Little things, yes.
    But it added up to something that didn't feel right at all.
    Calisto had believed for months that his uncle was hiding things from him, for many reasons. One of the biggest was the ending of a relationship between Calisto and a woman from a fellow New York family. He hadn’t loved her, but he’d considered marrying her for status, and his uncle. After waking up without his memories of the last two years, Affonso brushed the relationship off as something that hadn’t worked out and nothing more. It couldn’t have been that simple.
    Still, it was one thing Calisto chose not to push on.
    Like other things.
    A lot of things.
    Affonso told him something, and Calisto trusted his uncle, giving him … blind faith .
    As a consigliere for their crime family, he should have been given access to almost anything he wanted in regards to his uncle’s dealings, but he wasn’t. Not even close.
    Calisto had the distinct feeling Emma was trying to tell him something without actually telling him. He just had to figure out what it was.
    “I’m not sure where Emma is,” Calisto lied smoothly.
    Sort of.
    He didn’t know where Emma had gone after she left the library.
    Affonso cocked a brow, seemingly unpleased at that answer. “She wasn’t in the library? She spends most of her time in there.”
    Calisto shrugged. “No. I went in to check the piano. It’s been awhile since I tuned it.”
    “Does it?”
    “Does it what?”
    “Need tuning,” Affonso said.
    “It could use one,” Calisto lied again.
    The piano was fine.
    “I can come over next week and do it,” he added.
    Affonso’s face remained a mask of cold composure as he replied, “No, that’s fine. I’ll have that man come and do it. It’s his job, after all.”
    “It’s not a problem, zio . I can do it.”
    “No worries, I have someone for it.”
    “It’s my father’s piano,” Calisto said, confused why Affonso would argue the point on the instrument. “I have always tuned it.”
    It made him feel closer to a man he had never gotten the chance to meet, as odd as that may seem. It was one thing Calisto held onto.
    “I’ve had someone else doing it for a while. You were busy these last couple of years.”
    Oh.
    Well, then.
    Calisto went to respond, to agree and give Affonso what he wanted, but he quickly realized something before he could.
    Affonso didn’t want him to come to the house. Thinking over the last few months since he’d gotten out of the hospital, and then left the Donati home to go back to his own place, his uncle had done this very thing several times.
    Dinners with no invitation for Calisto. Excused.
    Meetings that should be held in his office. Rearranged.
    Visits with his cousins when they were home had been put off, or canceled with more excuses. Quick stops at the house to pass on a message or discuss an issue were ended before they had even begun.
    Little things , Calisto thought again.
    Things he had overlooked, but were far bigger in the grand scheme of things when he put them all together.
    And here his uncle was, doing it again.
    Keeping him away.
    Why?
    “Didn’t you have some money to collect tonight?” Affonso asked, forcing Calisto out of his thoughts.
    He did.
    “That and a Capo to see about a shipment coming in next week,” Calisto replied, keeping his tone easy and