“Thanks. I think. But listen, we’re going out tonight for a few hours. Will you be okay?”
“I’m not a little kid anymore.”
“I know that. But this whole thing is new. I’m just making sure you’re okay.”
“If you’re okay, then I am too. And how can you not be in that freaking dress?”
“Ha, ha, ha, you’re hilarious. I always thought I got the sense of humor in the family.”
“Nah, it skipped you and went right to me.”
I hesitate, wishing she’d asked me to stay behind. A little note of fear keeps ringing in my guts. But Stellan’s waiting for me downstairs.
“Order something for dinner. The big guy’s paying.”
“Happily. I’ll go nuts.”
“Please do.” I go over and give her a tight hug.
“You sure you’re good?”
“I’m totally good.” I step back and turn away. I don’t want her to see how afraid I am. All this time I’ve spent taking care of her, and I’ve always done my best to keep the worst of it shoved away. The less she has to carry, the farther she’ll get to fly.
Stellan escorts me into the back of a fancy town car. We have a driver for the evening. He takes us deep into South Philly into a neighborhood I’m not very familiar with. Stellan points out locations as we go: dry cleaners, supermarkets, restaurants, and bars. All of them owned or operated by affiliates of his family.
The driver drops us at an old Catholic church. I linger as Stellan heads straight toward the back entrance. “You sure we’re in the right place?”
He comes back and takes my arm. His voice softens, and I have to lean in close to hear him. “From now on, assume we’re being watched. Do you understand your role tonight?”
My jaw tightens. “I’m the meek and dutiful wife. Keep my head down. Speak when spoken to. Let the men do their business. Fucking pricks.”
“Perfect. You’ll be fine.” He tugs me closer. I slip my hand through his arm. “You really do look incredible. A man could be proud to have you by his side.”
“Could he? So how do you feel?”
“Like I want to get this over with.”
“That makes two of us.”
He leads me through an unlocked door and into what looks like a maintenance room. There are tools, extra pews, and Bibles piled on a workbench. Through another door, down another hall, and we step into the main room with rows of polished pews.
Men are sitting in them. It’s eerie how they turn and stare. There are only a few lights on, and the faces are hard to make out. But I can tell they’re mainly old, mainly well-dressed, and all of them are Italian.
Stellan walks down the aisle. I stay close behind him, head tilted down and my hands folded in front of me. I glance up, another flutter of worry in my guts. The men turn to look, and I get more than a few curious glances—and several straight-up hostile stares.
Which is a surprise. Why do some of these men look like they want to strangle me right here?
“We’re glad you could come,” a larger man says. He’s smiling, almost uncomfortable, as he glances back at the men around him. “On behalf of the Corsetti council, I’d like to welcome you both, Stellan Corsetti and Kira Santoro.”
One of the men, a thin and severe-looking gentleman with thin gray hair, grunts out a curse and shakes his head. “Santoro. That’s a name I never wanted to hear in council ever again.”
“Easy, Turi,” another man tuts at him, wagging a finger. “We all know your feelings. You’ve made them clear.”
“Gentlemen.” Stellan ignores the exchange. “I appreciate you all coming here tonight. I know it’s dangerous to bring the council together in one room.”
“Dangerous indeed,” the big man says, the one who originally welcomed us. “But worthwhile given the circumstances.”
“I’m shocked Matteo can talk with his lips firmly planted on Stellan’s ass,” Turi says, still looking disgusted.
