“Denise,” The security guard, Jonathan, said with his eyes widened. “I thought you were in Philly.”
I held my arms out to either side of me. “Clearly, I’m not, Jonathan.”
“Your mom didn’t mention you’d be coming home,” Jonathan replied.
“Yeah, she doesn’t know.” I crossed my arms. “Can you just do whatever you have to do so that I can get in, please? I’ve been in these clothes for two days.”
“I’m sorry,” he said with a waver to his voice. “I need to call her first.”
“Fine.”
Jonathan tapped the screen on his touchscreen computer a few times, and then the trill of a phone filled the air.
“Hello?” My stomach lurched at the sound of Illiana’s gravely, thickly Italian voice.
“Miss, sorry to bother you so early, but…” His gaze shifted sideways toward me. “Denise is out here.”
“Denise?” Illiana asked. “Costa?”
It didn’t surprise me that she would treat me like a stranger, but knowing she would didn’t make me feel any less like shit when she did it. “Yes!” I barked. “Denise Costa.”
“Oh, hello, dear. I thought you were still in Pennsylvania, handling the situation between the Binachis and the Varassos. Don’t tell me it’s already done?”
“It’s complicated,” I replied. “Can you please tell Jonathan to let me in? Then I can explain.”
“Oh, of course. Jonathan, please don’t make my child stand outside any longer.”
“Of course, Miss. I apologize,” Jonathan said. “I’ll send her in right away.”
“Great,” she said, and the line went dead.
Jonathan looked at me. “I’m sorry. Please go in.” He pressed a few buttons inside his booth, and then the gates in front of the mansion lurched to life and crawled to the side so that I could walk through.
Fortunately, the walk up to the door wasn’t too long, and when I got to the door, my mom was standing in front of the double white doors, waiting with her arms outstretched. Her long red hair fell in wild curls down her back, and her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight as if she was truly happy to see me. She was tall, standing just over six feet, and had a slender frame despite the fact that she’d given birth to seven children during her lifetime.
“Bellissimo!” she yelled. “Hello, my love!”
“Hey, Mom,” I greeted, walking into her embrace when I reached her.
“I hadn’t heard from you in a few weeks. I was beginning to think something bad had happened.”
And yet you didn’t send anyone for me. Expendable if I’d fucked up. Just another day.“No, I’m okay, but things didn’t quite go as expected.”
“Well, come in, come in. We’re just enjoying breakfast. There’s plenty.” My mom turned and led the way inside, and I followed after her.
Stepping into the mansion after years of not being there, I just felt weird. I’d spent a longer time away than this between visits, but knowing that this visit was part of a coup to try and get Illiana killed so that Anthony could helm control of her family gave me a sinking feeling as I followed the clacking of Illiana’s heels across the marble floor.
We turned into the dining room, where all of the Costas were sitting around Illiana’s big, oval oak dining table. The head chair was empty. I had no doubt that was where Illiana was sitting, and the notion was confirmed when she walked over to it and sunk into it. To her left, my younger brothers, Carmine and Sid, sat in a pair of chairs, and both of their jaws dropped when I walked into the room. Across from them, my youngest sister, Cherri, and the baby of the family, my youngest brother Bennett, were equally surprised. Opposite Illiana at the other end of the table was the Costa husband, Manuel, who’d taken on the Costa last name in lieu of his own after he and Illiana tied the knot sometime after Gabriel was born.
“Denise,” Manny, oddly enough, was the first to speak. “Hello.”
“Are you home now?” Cherri asked? Her hair was red like Illiana’s but straight as opposed to curly. She pulled out the chair next to her. “Come sit down!”
“Yeah, okay.”
I walked past Bennett, trying to ignore the way his gaze was almost scathing. He was just leaving middle school when I saw him last, but he would probably be graduating high school soon. He had his dad’s dark black hair folded feathery around his face, but his blue eyes were a reflection of Illiana’s and held that same malice.
I tapped him on his head as I passed. “You’ve grown.”
