When I finally step out of the car, I wince at how bright the sun is after the darkness of the limo. The others are already up the steps and entering the open doors. We have a full support staff today—chefs, serving staff, and coat attendants, as well as maids to keep the used areas clean and neat. The noise level is unlike anything the estate has seen for a long time when I finally enter the foyer. The security guard who is checking bags and weapons waves me and my party through. Everyone else would have been subjected to a pat down or scanned with the metal detector before being allowed into my house. Although most of the people expected today are family, I don’t trust anyone, and when I finally make it to the ballroom where the wake is being held, I realize I made the right decision. Holding court is none other than Mario and his adopted children. Penelope is hanging back, talking to someone else, and Gio and Casey are nowhere in sight. I know they left the cemetery after us, so it will be some time before they are missed.
“What the fuck are you doing here? You weren’t invited,” I growl, marching up to Mario. It was one thing for him to turn up to the church and grave, but to come to the wake is just spitting in my face. He’s the reason I did what I did, and now he’s just flaunting it.
“Ah, Tori, dear.” Mario wears a sad smile, but his eyes gleam with malice. “Now, don’t get all hysterical in your grief. I was justtelling Mattias that we are now all living here. Gio’s engagement to my niece opened up a new partnership between our families, and he invited us to move in to foster harmonious unity.”
I clench my fists and bite my tongue, stopping venom from spewing from my lips. “Is that so?” I grind out, fuming at the sheer audacity he has, assuming he can move into my family estate. Mattias Bianchi raises a questioning eyebrow. His family is from the East Coast, and we have a mutual agreement to stay out of their way if they stay out of ours, but he and Sage had a working relationship. Mattias is their chief horticulturalist and the third child of Rocco Bianchi, the family head.
“Tori, it is lovely to see you again. I’m so sorry it had to be on such an occasion. Sage was a true friend.” Mattias opens his arms and engulfs me in a friendly hug, one that looks as if two friends are embracing to curious onlookers, but I barely know the guy. Sage used to say he was cool though.
“Call us if you need allies. We will come,” he mutters in my ear before we break apart, and I nod my thanks. Thank goodness. He can either see how angry I am or Sage, the gossip that he was, shared way too much information with his friend.
“Thank you, Mattias. Please send my best to your father. It has been a while since we have caught up. I’d love to host him next time he is in town.” I smile, and I see Mario grit his teeth in annoyance.
Mattias takes his leave, and I turn my attention to Mario. “We will see about that,” I tell him quietly, but he just chuckles.
“The sooner you accept the inevitable, Tori, the happier everyone will be. Now why don’t you go see your fiancé? I’m sure he can console you if you need it.” He smirks and nods in Xavier’s direction. I turn to look and find the four of them standing on one side of the ballroom, drinks in hand, watching me closely. I head in the opposite direction, grabbing a glass of champagne off a passing tray, taking a sip, and mumblingmy thanks to a number of people in passing who give me their condolences.
My route takes me past Penelope, who reaches out and grabs my arm. When I look up, she stares at me with what looks like concern, but that can’t be right. Penelope doesn’t give two hoots about me, otherwise she wouldn’t be with Mario.
“Be careful, Tori. You’re playing a dangerous game,” she hisses. “Mario doesn’t like losing, and he has stacked the deck in his favor.” Her words are loaded with warning, but I just let my lips spread in a grin that has her recoiling.
“Ah, Penny, when are you going to learn I also know how to count cards?”
I snatch my arm out of her hand and keep walking, but before I can get much farther, a voice calls my name, and I stop. Not much has made me smile recently, but when I turn to the man, I feel a genuine one cross my lips.
“Tori, sweetheart, you look fuckable, as usual, even in your grief.”
Michael Scott approaches me, dressed in a dove gray morning suit with a flamboyant purple cravat fastened elegantly at his neck. His top hat sits jauntily on his head, and he clasps his white gloves in one hand. The waist coat under the tailed jacket has the Russo family motto embossed all over it. He’s a contemporary of my grandfather, a fit and healthy seventy-two-year-old who used to fill the role that I now currently hold. He was the one who taught Mickey everything he knew, who then passed it all on to me. After the death of his wife, he moved into a flashy retirement village filled with bored and horny widows. He is now the sole supplier of little blue pills to the senior citizens of Suncity. From what I understand, he is very much in demand, and there are regular cat fights between female residents over who gets to spend their time with the dapper senior.
“Michael!” I allow him to pull me into his arms and press a kiss to each of my cheeks. He holds me at arm’s length and studies me closely. His eyes would crinkle if he wasn’t so addicted to Botox.
“Tori, dear, you look rough. Are you getting enough sleep?”
I pat him on the arm but extract myself from his hold. “There hasn’t been a whole lot of down time for that, I’m afraid,” I tell him, and he nods. I think if he could, he would be frowning, but those muscles can’t break through the neurotoxin.
“Yes, it’s a terrible situation. Who am I going to get my supply of pills from now that our dear Sage has left us?” he asks, and I almost chuckle. Of course that’s what he is worried about. Without his stash of little blue pills, he won’t be as popular in his little empire.
I pat him reassuringly on the arm. “Be patient, Michael. I will have more information for you soon, and I know there are still some in the warehouse. Speak to Sam or Dean about having them delivered to you in the next few days.”
Michael’s sigh of relief is instantaneous, but before he can say anything else, I slip past him and walk farther into the crowd. More people stop me to offer their condolences. I have to make small talk and offer platitudes that Sage will be missed, but business will continue as usual. Many people ask for Gio, scanning the ballroom for his presence, and all I can do is shrug and deny knowledge of his whereabouts.
Two hours later, people have consumed enough drinks that they gather to start asking hard questions. Are the rumors true? Did I actually kill Sage? Is it true that Gio is marrying a Maricuso? Is it true that I pulled the plug on Mickey’s machine and he passed? Was Lorenzo really involved in the sex trafficking the FBI accused him of?
I field the questions as best as I can, grateful that my own bogus engagement hasn’t made the rounds, and just when I’vestarted to lose my patience, there is a commotion at the entrance of the ballroom. I turn and find Agent Garcia and his annoying partner, Agent Fisher, standing there. The ballroom falls silent, and I see the moment Gabe catches sight of me.
“Ms. Russo, if we may have a moment please?” He waves me over, but as I make my way there, Mario appears, frowning with disapproval.
“Surely whatever you want can wait. Can’t you see we are in mourning?” He gestures to the wake, and Agent Fisher’s eyes gleam with interest.
“You are Mario Maricuso, yes?” he asks eagerly, and at Mario’s acknowledgment, Gabe gestures toward the doors. “You should join us too please.”
Mario frowns in confusion, but I gesture for them to follow me.
Chapter Two
We are quite a crowd as they follow me through the halls toward what used to be my father’s public office and now belongs to Gio.
It’s large enough, but when Mario’s asshole children enter behind Ben, Suzy, Sam, and Dean, Agent Garcia frowns.
