Page 41 of Above ’N’ Beyond

“Thanks.” Bella padded across the gleaming white marble foyer, squinting up at the massive multi-tiered chandelier. She’d always hated the thing.

With its brass curlicues and thousands of hand-cut crystals, she’d always assumed it would fall on her head one day. As a child, she’d once tried counting all the crystals and lost track before she’d even gotten to a hundred. Rumor had it this chandelier had once hung in the Valenzano Castle in Subbiano, Italy. Exactly how Paola had gotten her hands on it, she didn’t want to know.

By the time she’d made it through the living room, with its ornate, gilded furniture in richly upholstered hues of blues, reds, and greens, she could hear her pulse hammering in her ears. When she reached the dining room, set for four people, Bella could swear her heart would beat right out of her chest.

Today, the sunroom was anything but sunny, and it wasn’t just because the sky outside was as gray as the very stone the house was made of, or that the waves of the Hudson had whipped to a frenzy with whitecaps racing toward the shoreline and crashing over the seawall. It was her mood, which was tanking fast.

At the sight of her aunt reclining in a regal, high-backed upholstered armchair, Bella gulped. If she didn’t find a way to draw strength from those lady balls she sorely wished she had more of, she’d wind up a shaking puddle of human flesh on the floor at Paola’s feet. Much as had happened when she’d been a child.

Time to man up! Or woman up.

Paola flipped a page of the magazine in her hands, the grape-sized diamond ring on her left hand glittering. Her silvery gray hair was pulled back in a perfect French twist. The skirt and jacket suit she wore was one of her favorites, sky-blue silk with dark-blue crystal buttons. One corner of Paola’s mouth lifted, the only sign of acknowledgment. She was big on power plays.

Bella cleared her throat. Paola looked up and smiled, not a friendly one, more of a crafty smile that spoke volumes, and what it was saying was: I know you want something, I know what it is, and you won’t get it.

Crap. She hadn’t voiced a single word yet, and already her courage was faltering. She took the chair on the other side of the small table next to her aunt.

Paola set the magazine down, then clasped her hands on her lap, looking every bit the powerful matriarch she was. The powerful Godmother that she is.

Her aunt’s graying brows arched as she took in Bella’s rain-soaked attire. “I see you still haven’t lost any weight as I suggested.”

Suggested? Bella swallowed the rising snarl in the back of her throat. When Paola had first callously proclaimed in front of the entire Bistro staff that she was overweight and needed to lose twenty pounds, it had been a command. Hardly a suggestion.

“To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” Paola continued, unfazed Bella hadn’t responded to her unpleasant comment.

“I went to the bank yesterday.” She locked gazes with Paola, but her aunt gave nothing away. “You deposited over two hundred thousand dollars in the Bistro account. Where did all that money come from? Because it sure didn’t come from the Bistro.”

“Bella, sweetheart.” Paola shook her head gently. Not the sign of someone about to be forthcoming with truthful information. “I’ve told you before, that isn’t something you need to be concerned with. You know that cash won’t be there for long.”

“That’s not the point,” Bella snapped. Her patience had worn about as thin as a tissue. The time for playing these games was over. “You can’t keep comingling outside funds with the Bistro’s account. If we’re ever audited, we’ll be in big trouble.”

Paola raised her hand in a dismissive gesture. “We won’t be audited.”

“How can you be so certain?” Bella leaned across the table. “Do you have the IRS in your back pocket, too?”

Paola’s lips thinned. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not.” So many people owed her aunt favors, it wasn’t out of the question. Bella’s breathing came harder, faster, as she struggled for control.

Paola pointed a finger. “Do not take that tone with me, young lady.”

“Then don’t treat me like I’m ten years old.” Her voice had begun to shake, and she swallowed. “I want to look at your accountant’s books.”

The patronizing sigh Paola made grated on Bella’s nerves. Her aunt leaned back in her throne of a chair, again clasping her hands. “You and I had an agreement. I let you hire your own staff, and I handle the books.”

“That’s not good enough anymore.” Bella shook her head. “Where did that money come from? Did you steal it? Did Tony work another scam or rip off some other mobster?” Uh-oh. She’d actually said the M word in front of her aunt.

“Bella!” Paola’s eyes about popped out of her head. “We do not use that word. Ever.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you think I’m stupid or blind? I know exactly what you and Tony are, and everyone else who works for you. You’re mobsters. All of you.”

“Bella, stop it!” her aunt shouted, something she rarely did. “You don’t know anything about me, anything about what I’ve gone through to hold this family together. To keep the government from taking what’s ours.”

Paola’s lips compressed so tightly the skin around her mouth whitened. “You were in Italy when your uncle—my husband—and my beautiful son were murdered by the police and the FBI.”

That much was true. Bella had come home for the funerals, but the media coverage had a different spin on their deaths. She’d tried to be there for her aunt and Tony, but they’d clung to each other, essentially treating her like an outsider.

“You didn’t see how they took everything from us. Everything.” Paola’s eyes blazed. “You know your uncle’s operation was nearly wiped out, and there’s always someone ready and willing to move in and take over an area. I had to act fast, and I did. We’re still rebuilding, but I did it. I rebuilt Angelo’s legacy into what it is today. A thriving business.”