“You keep speaking as though theCamorrafoot soldier isn’t lying,” Don Rosolini said. “Are wecertainDon Amato is dead?”
“On the drive back to Florence, I tried calling both Don Amato and hisconsigliere,”Niccolo said. “Neither one answered.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Valentino retorted. “After Rome, we’re totally on the outs with the rest of theCosa Nostra.”
“We spoke with Don Camerota just a few weeks ago,” Niccolo reminded him. “That whole thing with the foot soldier stalking Giorgio’s girlfriend.”
Valentino snorted. “So? That doesn’t meaneverybody’sgoing to take your phone calls.”
“Which is why, with your permission,” Niccolo said to Don Rosolini, “I’d like to contact Don Severino and see if he or hisconsiglierewill check in with the Amatos.”
Don Severino was the mafia don who ran all of Rome.
During the Council, he had made everybody promise not to attack any otherCosa Nostrafamily in attendance –
So the brothers had pissed him off royally when they’d killed Fausto.
Pissed him off so bad, in fact, that Don Severino had told them never to come back to Rome.
“You think he’ll answer?” Don Rosolini asked.
“He’ll listen to the message, that’s for sure. And I have a feeling he’ll want to ask us some questions.”
Don Rosolini nodded. “Do it.”
Niccolo excused himself and walked out of the parlor.
“What else did theCamorrafoot soldier know?” Don Rosolini asked Adriano.
“Not a whole lot – he was just a low-level grunt. He said he was there the night of the raid on Don Amato’s compound. He didn’t see them get killed, but he saw the bodies afterwards – except for Amato’s daughter. She was out of the house that night.
“A couple of days after it all went down, Lucrezia told him and the other two guys – the ones Giorgio shot – to go burn down Bianca’s shop. They were hoping to findmethere, but…”
“How did they find out who owned the dress shop?” Lars asked. “That wasn’t exactly widespread knowledge – or was it?”
Roberto grimaced. “Once Amato told Cesare and Lucrezia about our wives, all they had to do was search the internet for any mention of their names.”
Bianca frowned. “But I don’t have a website up yet – and you said the shopfront was rented under a bunch of shell corporations.”
Lucia suddenly gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth.
Bianca turned to look at her in alarm.
Lucia’s eyes filled with tears. “…my Instagram account…”
“Unfortunately,” Niccolo said in a quiet voice, “once they found out Massimo was married to the granddaughter of the Widow of Venice, all they had to do was Google you.”
Bianca’s face went slack as she realized what had happened:
TheCamorrahad targeted her shop because of all the pictures they had posted.
“I’m so sorry,” Lucia whispered. “I would have never done anything if – ”
“Stop. You werehelpingme.” Despite the pained look on her face, Bianca did her best to comfort Lucia. “Everything youdidwas to help me. It’s not your fault. Hell,Iwas the one who told you to put all those photos on there…”
“They would have found out one way or another,” Massimo told his wife.
“Whatelsedid they find out?” Lars asked in alarm.
