“I want to find him.”
“If he exists and your father has kept him a secret all these years, I doubt there is anything you or I could do to discover his identity, but if you want to try, I’m in.” I would never leave Mateo to do this alone.
He nods slowly, looking troubled as he stares off into space. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” he whispers after a few silent beats, rubbing at his red eyes. “I’m terrified what this means. She was our rock. The beating heart of our family. Nat is falling apart. Papa is putting on a brave face, but he’s lost too.” He lifts his head up, thrusting his shoulders back. “I can’t crumple. I need to be strong for them.”
“You are. And I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks, man.” He grips my shoulder hard. “I meant what I said. This life only makes sense when you’re my wingman. Someday, it will be the two of us in charge. We’ll be running the show, because I could not do it without you.”
“We’ll be the stuff of legends.” I smirk, waggling my brows. We both know I’m full of shit, but it’s exactly what’s needed to lighten the mood.
A familiar arrogant grin spreads over his mouth, and I’m relieved to see it. “Damn straight.”
“Mateo!” Angelo calls out, obviously hearing us talking outside the door. “Come here.”
We step into the room, closing the door after us. Angelo has his underboss, consigliere, and his most senior capo in the room. I’m surprised to see the new Accardi don in the room too.
Gino took over from his father when he suffered a massive heart attack and died last year. It’s not unusual for heirs to ascend the throne at a young age; such is the nature of the world we live in. But all the other New York bosses—Mazzone, Greco, Maltese, DiPietro—are in their fifties and sixties, meaning Gino, at thirty-five, is the youngest don of the five families. A title I don’t envy him.
“Take a seat.” Angelo gestures toward the two empty seats in front of his desk, as he walks to the door and locks it. “We need to talk about the Barone.”
“Have you finally confirmed who was behind the attack?” Mateo asks, sitting with his legs spread wide.
“Don Greco and I paid them a couple of visits,” Angelo confirms, dropping into his seat behind the desk. “They are adamant they were hired by Accardi.”
My eyes whip to Gino’s. His pose is relaxed. The expression on his face is unconcerned. “You know that is untrue.”
“I believe you.” Angelo nods at the tall dark-haired Accardi don.
“Which means the Barone are lying,” Agosti says.
“And so is Carlo,” Mateo adds.
“Carlo may be telling the truth. At least what he believes to be true,” Coppola, the consigliere, says.
“That is a possibility,” Angelo agrees, scrubbing a hand over his chin.
“I don’t trust him,” Mateo says.
“You don’tlikehim,” Angelo replies. “Be careful your personal feelings don’t interfere with business. Don’t let it cloud your judgment.”
Mateo clenches his jaw and grips the side of his chair. I know he’s as desperate as I am to find something to pin on Carlo. We have had a guy trailing him for weeks, and he’s come up empty-handed so far, which is frustrating.
Angelo sits up straighter, clearing his throat. “I made a request of Don Greco today,” he informs his son. Pain flits across his face before he quickly composes it. “Your mama’s last wish was that I try to get the wedding postponed until Natalia is twenty-one so she can attend NYU.”
I manage to mask my surprise. Nat has confided in me about her plans to study medicine at NYU. She knows it’s a pipe dream, especially because it would take years to become a qualified doctor and no don worth his salt would wait that long to marry his daughter off. But I know Natalia would be delighted to get any time at NYU, so I’m hoping Don Greco will agree.
“Why does she want to go to NYU?” Mateo asks, looking confused, and it’s clear Nat hasn’t confided in him.
“She wants to be a doctor,” I explain, my gaze jumping from my friend to his father. “Having a qualified doctor within the family would be hugely beneficial.”
“It would,” Angelo agrees. “But it’s no job for a woman.”
I grind my teeth to the molars, wondering ifla famigliawill ever move with the times.
“And there is no way I can get this wedding deferred indefinitely. I have no right to ask for it, except I’m appealing to Don Greco’s humanity. Mama’s death has hit myprincipessahard, and she needs time to mourn.”
“If he doesn’t agree?” Mateo asks.
