“Where is he?” I yelled, jumping to my feet. “Is he here? Is that why you guys are all acting weird? I thought he didn’t want anything to do with us, and—”
“My brother,” Frank said softly, “is dead. I’m sorry.”
I fell back against my chair as bitterness washed over me. So that was it? I finally got to see truth, and the rug was ripped out from beneath me?
“Keep reading,” Dante urged.
Sergio was as still as a statue next to me.
I turned the page and saw my name again.
It was a contract.
Between the Abandonato family and the Nicolasi family.
I hereby swear upon death that if it is within my power to join Valentina’s hand in marriage to Sergio Abandonato, I will make it so, or let my soul burn for an eternity.
“I’m BETROTHED?” I yelled, looking up.
“Not just betrothed.” Oh, now Gio speaks up? “You are promised to Sergio… to—” he swallowed “—one of the most powerful Mafia families in the Cosa Nostra. If Dante does not take his rightful place, you will be marrying the new boss to Frank Alfero’s Empire.”
I burst out laughing.
Nobody joined me.
My laughter faded. “You can’t be serious!” I pushed to my feet. “Is this a prank? Mob boss? Cosa Nostra?” I scanned the room for hidden cameras, because, come on! Mafia? Did that even exist anymore? The idea was laughable. Why was everyone still sitting? “Guys! The joke’s up, come on, whose idea was this?”
Nobody moved.
Finally, Dante spoke, “Val, it’s real.”
I frowned. “Dante, seriously…”
“Damn it, Val!” Dante’s voice rose. “Our father was Luca Nicolasi! One of the most lethal mob bosses in history! Frank is your damn uncle!” He pointed at Frank who managed to look at least a bit sad.
The lines in Frank’s face drew into a scowl. “You could have said that better, Dante.”
“Better she know than assume it’s a joke. I wish.” He put his hands on his head and turned around in a circle then faced me. “Val…” His nostrils flared. “I kept it from you to protect you, all right? I would never purposefully—”
“All of you?” I stumbled back, jerking away from him. “All of you knew? This whole time? And I was in the dark?”
Choking on a cry, I stared at each of my uncles, none of them could look me in the face, even Frank had averted his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Dante swore and punched a hole in the kitchen wall.
Dust settled at his feet.
And Sergio simply stood there. In the same spot. Staring.
“How long have you known?” I directed my question at him.
“Eight weeks.”
“And you’ve waited that long to tell me! What kind of person are you? You could have at least given me warning! Oh look hi, I’m Sergio, I OWN you!”
“My apologies,” Sergio said in a tense voice. “I must have been too busy taking care of my cancer-ridden wife. How selfish of me.” He moved toward me with a cat like grace, predatory, like he was going to pounce. “You’re right, I should have texted you the minute she died and told you the good news.”
“I—”
“Say you’re sorry and I won’t hesitate to shoot something.”
I lifted my chin as tears clogged my throat. “Shoot something. Just make sure it’s not a human. And I am sorry. There, I said it. Because as much as this sucks…” It was nearly impossible to keep the tears of sadness and frustration away, and I finished in a whisper, “That’s worse.”
His lips parted a bit and then he turned on his heel and stomped out of the room.
“Is he really going to shoot something?” I asked the room.
“Probably,” Frank answered then held out his hand. “Val, let’s go for a walk, shall we?”
“Am I safe with you?”
“I’m a wonderful shot.”
I narrowed my eyes and assessed him. “I bet you are.”
He offered a polite smile. “You’re my niece, I would protect you with my life.”
At least he was willing to give me something. My uncles were still staring daggers into the table as if it was going to come alive and start spouting Shakespeare. “Fine.”
“Good girl.” He kissed my hand. “I promise, it’s not so bad as it seems.”
“Oh?”
“Actually…” He winced. “I’m afraid it’s worse.”
And though she be but little, she is fierce! —A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Sergio
CEMENT.
Gravel.
Pavement.
Streetlights.
I exhaled slowly, the shaky breath staggering in puffs of white in the freezing air as I leaned against the brick wall in the narrow alleyway. The winter chill should have been powerful enough to choke the life out of me, but I felt nothing.
Except a keen numbness that had me, once again, wondering what the hell I was doing in New York. I wasn’t making things better. I’d already beaten up a few old men, threatened to shoot people in front of a girl who’d never seen violence a day in her life, and that was with me trying to control myself.
God help us all if I truly lost my shit.
I wiped my face with my hands then focused on a tiny crack in the wall. Life was easier that way — it was the only way I knew how to handle the tumultuous emotions surging through me, focus on small, don’t think about the bigger picture.