“Relax, Mama, the staff said they would notify us when Nonna was stable,” I pat her shoulder.
Mama places her hand over her heart. “I don’t know how much more I can take of this. First your father fourteen years ago, and now everyone in this family is dropping like flies.”
“What would make you think there would be poison in one of Nonna’s muffins?” Matteo shifts in his chair. “I had one yesterday, fresh out of the oven. I was fine.”
“Nonna didn’t make those muffins.” Mama’s shaky hands tighten around her rosary. “Madeline stopped by and brought them over.”
“Madeline Toma?” I gasp.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mama shrugs. “She brought them over as a gift since our family has been going through so many hardships. But Nonna would never eat one of Madeline’s muffins. She always said they weren’t as good as hers…”
Words become background noise as my mind races. Nonna had said Madeline brought over muffins the day my father died. Half a muffin had been found near his body. Now Nonna is found with half a muffin and Madeline baked them…again.
I look at Lucia and Matteo. “Mama stay here and keep watch on everything. I’ll be back soon.” I snap my fingers. “Lucia. Matteo. Come with me.”
I give Gigi a kiss on the forehead. The machines hum beside her, each beep a reminder of how we could have lost her.
Anger fills me.
How can a man put a woman in harm’s way for money and not even care what happens to her?
My fingers curl into fists as I leave the room. If Elio thought getting beaten with an iron pipe was bad. He has no idea what’s coming to him.
Chapter forty-five
“We should be in the hospital with Nonna and Gigi.” Matteo grumbles from the backseat of my car. “Family first, remember.”
“This is family first.” I pull into Nonna’s driveway.
“Looks like we have company.” Matteo nods at the small hatchback that’s parked along the curb.
“Fuck!” I open the door and race into the house.
Clanging and banging sounds from the kitchen as I run through the foyer. “Marcella! Stop!”
Entering the kitchen, I see a plump woman jump and one of the pots clatters to the floor. I feel Lucia and Matteo behind me.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Cipriani. Lucia. Matteo. You scared me half to death!” She leans forward placing both hands on the counter. Her chest heaves.
Marcella is our housekeeper and good friend who comes once a week to clean. She’s been helping to clean our homes since we were babies.
“Marcella, what are you doing here? This isn’t your day to clean.” I step into the kitchen.
“I’m here because you told me to come,” she stammers. Reaching up, she adjusts her gray lopsided bun.
I pause. “I didn’t tell you to come today.”
“One of your guards did. I got a call a half hour ago. The person told me that you were at the hospital and you wanted me to go to Nonna’s house and clean immediately.” Marcella picks up the pot that had fallen to the floor.
“Marcella, in all the years you’ve been working for us, have I ever had a guard call you?”
“No. That’s why I was surprised but you know I don’t ask questions.” Marcella opens the cabinets under the sink and begins taking out cleaning products.
I scan the area and notice Marcella has already done a great job of cleaning most of the kitchen already. “Was there half of a muffin on the floor when you came in?”
