She grins, "Ding, ding, ding. Now you're getting it."
After thirty years, she had finally had enough of waiting and plotting behind the scenes. Edoardo, our new Don, was weak when he came into power; it was her time to strike. But she needed to find her son for that.
Her methods are ruthless, but brilliant.
"You married your daughter to Edoardo, even knowing that you wanted him off that throne, replaced by your illegitimate son?"
"Either him or Roberto," she waves the cigarette like it doesn't matter. I'm starting to see the picture—her endgame. Margarita wasn't happy running the capo business from behind the curtain. She wanted to run the Capo dei Capi from behind the curtain. And who better than her grandson or son? And if all that failed, she still had a daughter married to Edoardo.
"Alright, as fascinating as all this is, can we now get to the part where we get rid of this snake?" Enzo asks.
I hold up my hand. I'm not quite done.
"So, when did your little plan start to fall apart? When Edoardo took Helen as his mistress? When you found out your son was dead? When you figured out that Isabella is not you and can't manipulate her husband?"
"That silly cunt." Obviously annoyed, Margarita takes a deep sip from the scotch, shaking her head. "I should have known better than to place my bets on her."
This woman is a true sociopath. Had she been born a man, she probably would have become Capo dei Capi one day. She's as ruthless as they come, with no emotional regard for anything or anyone.
Another thought occurs to me. "You kidnapped Izzy. You planted her in your house to make it look like your son Giovanni did it. To incite another war, this one between the Sartori's and your own family."
"Smart boy," she finishes the scotch and throws the glass over her shoulder, where it crashes against the wall.
"More?" Enzo asks.
"Might as well be drunk before I die," Margarita agrees.
Enzo again moves to the door, while I mull over the last piece of information. Enrico's sister Izzy was abducted a few months ago, which led to Enrico killing Giovanni and enraging Edoardo. But since Giovanni had been the one betraying the code—the one that doesn't allow capos to involve each other's family members, especially women—Edoardo could do little. Enrico was within his rights to kill the man who abducted his sister.
"Giovanni was starting to have some silly notions about not needing me any longer," Margarita explains without me prompting. "Roberto was so much easier to manipulate. Poor boy. He didn't deserve to die."
Now that again raises my ire. "Roberto abused my sister."
She rolls her eyes at me. "Really? That's what you're worried about?"
I don't need another reason to see her dead, but she just handed me one. "You knew."
She shrugs. "Every man or woman for themselves. If your sister is too much of a pussy to take care of herself…" She shrugs again, then reaches for the glass Enzo hands her.
"Well, the joke is on you, because Raffael killed Roberto." I'm about to smirk when an ice-cold shiver runs down my spine. Her smile widens in equal measure to every ounce of dread growing inside me. "Wait, you said Carlosthoughthe had killed your son? Raffael is your son?"
She holds up the glass in a cheer, "Bingo."
A dry laugh escapes me. Fuck. Me. Raffael is about to become my brother-in-law. If I do anything to him, I'll hurt my sister.
"You better watch your back,boy," Margarita laughs.
"Marco," I yell, having had enough of that vile bitch.
Carefully and with great grace, Margarita puts the glass on the table before she walks over to Marco without being prompted. Like the queen she always wanted to be, she turns by the door.
"One more thing," she calls over her shoulder, "next time you see your new friend, Toni? Ask him about the time he and Grigori Arsenyev got rid of your brother's body."
Rooted to the spot, I stare after her. Enzo shakes his head, "I have a feeling that bitch could pull a Sheherazade on you and weave one thousand and one secrets. Let it go."
I was told Angelo died in a boating accident, was shredded by the propellers. I always thought it suspicious, and I would have looked deeper into it, but I never had a chance. I don't give a rat's ass what or who killed my fucking brother.
My gut is a pit of dread and anger, but not for the reasons she thinks. My brother was a piece of shit. Even if it were Toni who pulled the trigger, I wouldn't have cared. What I care about is that he hasn't told me. We're allies. This cannot stand between us. I will not allow it to do that.
