I stagger to my feet, my knees reminding me with every creak that I’m too old for this shit. “Talk.”
Andrea limps to join me at the foot of my desk. Ziu lights a cigarette that Luiggi offers while cutting glances at Vince, who sits on the couch with Elio.
“My father arranged my marriage to Flavia. I put it off. When the time came for me to take over the Fratellanza, I needed a wife from one of the families,” Elio explains. “I fell in love with an actress who was part of a small theatre company traveling across Italy.” A smile spreads. “Marie Baker is still the most beautiful woman to walk the earth.
“I took out-of-town jobs to follow her around the country. Marie knew I’d have to marry Flavia one day, but she had my heart. Loving a Black woman out loud wasn’t as accepted in the sixties as it is now. I couldn’t let her go. When she got pregnant a few months later, I sent her back to New York to keep her safe. Visits were less frequent, but I flew to check in with US Fratellanza families to see her. We were eighteen, but we wanted to make it work.”
The wrinkles in Elio’s face screw into a grimace.
“Someone killed her,” I say without the need for confirmation.
He nods, his eyes glazing over. “I found Marie in our Brooklyn apartment. She had been dead for days. Vince’s father took Chiara, our daughter, to a trusted family in Jersey City. I had her sent to an associate in Baltimore who raised her and kept my distance.
“Chiara lived a good life. She went to college, traveled, and eventually resettled in Chicago. Someone found out about her after she gave birth to Bianca and killed her.”
“That’s why you brought The Butcher out of retirement,” I say.
Elio wipes his eyes. “I lost my only love and our daughter. Viola Harris blamed me for Chiara’s death after I approached her, but she couldn’t say no to raising her best friend’s daughter.”
Mama Vee.
“I took additional precautions with Bianca. No international travel like Chiara or Marie. Live in Jersey City, not New York. Keep Baltimore home. She never saw me, but she always felt my presence. Vince was the only enforcer from the Brooklyn family I trusted. He moved to look after Bianca and Viola.”
“Cazzo,“ Vince growls, his attention on the phone he pounds between his meaty fingers. “The tracker I put in her necklace is still pinging from Naples. I knew I should’ve flown out there, but she needed the break and was in our territory. You got another tracker on her, kid?”
“Just her phone,” I answer.
“No wonder she went fucking missing,” he spits. “You didn’t think to put one anywhere else? Herwedding ring? The phone is the first thing tossed out of a window.”
“It’s in the ring I had designed for her…at the jewelers.”
He huffs. “Some fucking use that is.”
I’m on my feet. “My fucking wife is missing! All I care about is finding her. Unless you plan to help, take you and your shit hip back to the States.”
Vince is strong as fuck for his age, but I’ll lay him out with my chair if necessary.
“She’s my kid.”
“Who is now my wife. My.Wife.“ The word is sharp on my tongue.
He lets out a breath. “She wasn’t supposed to get caught up in shit that ain’t got nothing to do with her. I’d give my life for Bianca. So help me God, if anything happens to her…”
“I’m killing everyone involved,” I promise.
Vince holds my gaze. “You and I will have words when this is over.”
“Name the time and place,” I say.
His frown eases. He looks at Elio, who eyes my uncle.
“Alright, kid. Let’s go to war.”
Chapter 43
"I Know Who Betrayed Us"
Salvatore
