“She had better be.”
Is he displeased having her out of his sight in another man’s territory or does he doubt our protection? My first wife died in front of me. My breath grows short at the thought of history repeating itself. I will not lose Matilde.
“Your former father-in-law sends his regards,” Carlo observes once we’re settled in front of the fire with drinks.
“Is Russo pretending to be insulted that I didn’t wait for the customary year of mourning to pass?”
“It has raised some eyebrows.”
“My children need a mother.”
“Of course. I heard you had some trouble with one of your captain’s sons.”
“Giacomo Barzetti,” Dante chimes in with cruel relish. “The pussy shit his pants after Nico relieved him of a finger.”
“I suppose he’ll think twice about defying his Capo again,” Carlo comments, dryly.
I’m not as sure of that. I’ve not met with Giacomo since the incident, and though Antonio has openly said it was my right as Capo to punish any Trio man who disobeyed me, I do wonder what he’s said behind closed doors. Father was content to get his ass kissed and his pockets full of cash. I have different plans, and some don’t like that, including the Barzetti family. A war with the West and potentially one in my own city. I’ll fight them all if I must, but I have to keep my children and Matilde safe.
“He was Ritchie’s nephew, right?” Carlo asks as if he doesn’t already know the answer. I’m not surprised he’s bringing up Gia’s dead husband and all the trouble that has brought. He wanted concessions, not war, but Alessio wouldn’t give up his best friend. “Alessio raised that bodyguard’s father to his Consigliere, meaning Armando Greco will likely follow in his footsteps when the old man retires. I worry that will complicate Las Vegas and Chicago’s road back to peace.”
“That’s not all that would,” I mutter, shooting a glance at Dante.
“Your bride is from Sicily, I hear. I have many cousins there. To your future happiness,” Carlo offers, raising his glass.
“Happiness,” I repeat, wondering if that’s possible. He appears to be a happily married man, but I know the marriage was not Francesca’s choice. No more choice than I’ve given Matilde.
And while Carlo Vicini’s good looks are well-known - models and society girls threw themselves at him in his bachelor days - Matildewill be married off to a man nine years her senior whose first wife couldn’t bear to look at him.
“Will you host a Seconda Notte?”
“Are you hoping to cheat on your wife as you did with your ex-fiancée, Vicini?” Dante taunts.
Carlo levels him with a glare that has me reaching for my knife. “I would cut my own throat before dishonoring my vows to Francesca, but if you have something you’d like to hash out, Morelli-”
“That won’t happen on my wedding day,” I break in. “There will be no Seconda, but we can meet early tomorrow to discuss business before your flight if you wish.”
“Bene,”Carlo agrees coolly as my mother enters.
The three of us stand, Carlo overflowing with the charm he’s famous for, but Mother is twisting her hands together, looking more than a little harried.
“I beg your pardon for interrupting. The bride requires the groom’s presence for a moment. More than a moment perhaps. In fact… you’d best go up, Nico. Right away.”
I’m not sure why I’m suddenly filled with panic until my brother spells it out for me.
“Translation – your bride is on the verge of climbing down the trellis to avoid making the biggest mistake of her life, so get your ass upstairs if you wish to stop her.”
“Fucking hell.”
23
Matilde
All week, I’ve had plenty of distractions to help me ignore my impending wedding. We went dress shopping. Maddalena squealed with delight when I asked her to be my Maid of Honor… even if she hates my groom. Zeta questioned me, early and often, aboutmythoughts regarding her son’s proposal.
But none of it felt quite real.
“He did not get you a ring of engagement,” Zeta tuts, glaring at my bare fingers. “I raised him better than this, I did.”
