“The sight of you with that teacup would instill fear into the hearts of our fiercest enemies, Carlo.”
I flip Luca off for his comment causing Giulia to hurriedly cover her mouth. Someone has made her self-conscious of her unique laughter. I fucking hate that.“No, bella. You laugh all you wish,”I sign for her. “And our enemies are fools indeed if they would think me weak simply because I’m not a monster around little girls, Luca.”
“We are what we are, Carlo,” my father says from the doorway. He doesn’t even set foot inside her bedroom. “A smart Capo accepts that about himself and those around him.”
“And a strong Capo doesn’t value what others might think above what he knows is best for his famiglia, whether it’s the Trio or his blood, Father.”
Our conversation only sours from there as he leads me away from my siblings. I have always worked hard to be the heir he wants. But lately, I’m at odds with him and it’s not always about Giulia. I’m growing impatient for the day he finally retires. God knows what he might say if he knew how much I wish to cancel my engagement, throwing all caution to the wind for the sake of claiming a traitor’s daughter.
“I called you here for business as well as breakfast. You’ll be meeting with De Luca later today for me. Perhaps you might settle things with your fiancée while you’re there.”
“You’re sending me for a face to face?”
When he nods, a devious smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as an idea comes to mind.
9
Carlo
Enzo De Luca is surprised when I appear on his doorstep, but it’s easy to convince him and his ego the flight to Reno was more convenient to talk about our latest heroin shipment. He’ll tell Silvio all the pertinent details at least. He’s not a fool like that son of his.
“Things too hot in Vegas for you to risk showing face there?” that very fool asks me as I’m formulating excuses to see Francesca.
“Has Alessio’s beating healed enough that you find yourself in need of another, Rocco?” I may owe Sofia an apology, but I'll never say as much to this piece of shit. His oily grin disappears, and I turn my back on him. “Is your sister at home, Enzo? It’s long since I’ve paid my respects to her.”
“No one who matters pays her any respect,” Rocco scoffs. Alessio should’ve slit his throat after the fucking nightmare at his reception.
“Beatrice prefers the quiet of her rooms, but you may certainly see her if you wish, Carlo,” Enzo says before I end his son's worthless life.
Based on things I’ve heard, I half expect Francesca and her mother to be living in the cupboard under the stairs. Their sitting room is not large, and the furniture is shabby, but at least there’s plenty of light, and it overlooks a garden.
The rat’s wife is still a beautiful woman, though the toll her grief and humbling have taken on her is evident. She is nervously chatty and quietly depressed by turns, clearly flustered by my unexpected visit. “I have never forgotten your extraordinary kindness and forbearance that terrible day, Don Vicini.”
“I am not the Don yet, signora.”
“Yes, yes! Of course, not yet! Your good father is still with us, isn’t he? I’m terribly sorry I misspoke,” she cries, devastated by her faux paus. Her hands shake as she attempts to pour me a cup of tea I don’t want.
Enzo soon finds an excuse to leave us, and the maid and guard’s demeanors shift from attentive to contemptuous once he does. No one wants her here, and she’s well aware of it. No wonder Francesca wants to escape mob life.
No sooner than I’ve thought of her, that melodious voice is calling from the next room. “Mom? Are you alright?”
The door opens and I stand, surprised by the way my heart speeds up. She’s dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt. Her red hair is haphazardly piled up on top of her head with that ‘lucky’ silver hair tie. She’d be radiant wearing a burlap sack.
Her look of concern melts into one of utter hatred when she sees me. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Francesca!” Beatrice shrieks, aghast.
“I’m delighted to see you, too, Red.” She stares at me like a venomous snake that’s slithered across her path. “I had a long flight earlier and a long drive out here. I need to stretch my legs. Would you care to show me around that garden down there?” I may have made up my mind - and lost it - on the way here, but I’ll be damned if I’m making this offer in front of her mother.
Her pretty blue eyes widen as she looks nervously toward the guard. Then, she gulps and nods before soothing her mother. In silence, Francesca leads me down the balcony steps to the garden full of rocks,brush and the occasional desert bloom, all the more lovely for its rarity.
How do I ask her this? It’s not a question I’ve ever posed before and certainly not to a girl like her. It is not an honorable thing to do, and my family prides itself on honor almost as much as we do in our cutthroat ways. Yet, I can’t stop myself.
“If you’re going to kill me, take me somewhere my mother won’t see.”
“Why would you think that?” I ask, stunned when I realize she's serious.
“You don’t have to pretend. I saw you in the garden at my second cousin’s wedding the day we met. The Best Man was never seen again. You came back to my house the following week to kill my father, didn’t you?”
