Adriano frowned. “Why?”
“She’s not just my wife, she’s a highly capable strategist,” Niccolo said as he finally moved a black bishop.
Without any hesitation, Sofia moved one of her white pieces.
“Shit!” Niccolo hissed, then turned to Adriano and gestured at the board. “Case in point.”
“What are you, a fuckin’ masochist?” Adriano asked. “You know you’re never gonna beat her.”
“One day,” Niccolo said confidently.
Sofia gave one of her tight-lipped smiles. “One can always dream.”
“Ha ha,” Niccolo said without laughing. Then he explained to Adriano, “We play poker, too. I’m teaching her how to bluff better.”
“WhileI’mteaching him how to actuallyplaychess,” Sofia added.
“Ow!” Niccolo scowled. “Harsh!”
“But accurate.”
Suddenly the door opened and Lars, freshly showered and dressed, walked in with Rachel.
“What,she’sgonna sit in, too?!” Adriano asked in exasperation.
“She was a former MI6 agent. Shemighthave something to add,” Lars said sardonically.
“I was just asking,” Adriano snapped.
Rachel looked at Adriano coolly. “You think women shouldn’t attend the meetings?”
Adriano sighed. “It’s just it was nobody but my brothers, my father, and my uncle for years. This is… new.”
“Fair enough,” Rachel replied as she sat down on the sofa next to Roberto.
“Areyourwives sitting in, too?” Adriano asked Roberto and Massimo sarcastically.
“Well,” Roberto said mildly, “seeing as Mei-ling was the daughter of one Hong Kong gangster and the business partner of another, I’m sure she would have some insights. But she’d rather distance herself from the less savory aspects of our business.”
“And Lucia’s the Widow’s granddaughter,” Massimo said. “When the old lady passes, Lucia will probably take over Venice. If she wasn’t helping Bianca today, I’m sure she’d want to sit in.”
“Okay, okay, everybody’s qualified to be here, I get it,” Adriano said defensively. “Jesus.”
At just that moment, Don Rosolini walked in wearing a suit. Unlike Roberto, he wore no vest or tie. A few of his tattoos were visible at the open neck of his dress shirt.
“Alright, everyone’s here,” he said. “Let’s begin.”
Adriano turned to me. “Alright, Giorgio, you’re up.”
Every eye in the room turned to me.
“…I am?” I asked nervously.
“Yeah. Tell them exactly what you told me last night: what theputtanasaid, and what happened with the guys from Le Piagge.”
I swallowed.
Talking to Don Rosolini was nerve-wracking enough, but speaking in front of the entire familywas worse.
