“You’re good to her, Son.”
“Of course he is.” Mom breezed into the kitchen, swatting me with the towel when she noticed me try to pluck off the freshly made cornetti off the cooling rack. “Later,” she chided. “You can have one later.”
“I won’t be here. I’ll be out of town for a couple of nights.”
Her shoulders bunched together. “Do I even want to know?”
“It’s business, Marcella. They’ll be fine.”
“That’s what they always say,” she murmured, making herself busy.
Mom had grown up around my uncles and Nono. She knew what this life entailed. Part of me sometimes wondered if she’d expected to get out when she married my father. But instead, he’d joined the ranks, swearing his allegiance to the Family. But Michele Bellatoni wasn’t like most mafioso. He was quiet and contemplative, and he didn’t abuse his power. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t gotten any blood on his hands—you didn’t live this life and never experience death—but he wasn’t hungry for it the way some were. He was a good guy.
One of the best.
The kind of man I always hoped to become.
“Just keep your wits about you, Son,” he said, his eyes flicking to my mom. Once he was satisfied she wasn’t paying us any attention, he added, “DiMarco is a wily sonofabitch.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I mumbled, swiping a cornetti while Mom’s back was turned.
My old man chuckled, but then his expression soured. “Stay safe, Matteo, and watch your back.”
The familiar rumble of Enzo’s GTO drew my attention, and I drained my coffee. “Thanks, Mama. I’ll see you soon, okay.”
She came over to me, taking my face in her dainty hands. “You come back to me in one piece, figlio mio.”
“Stop fussing over the boy, woman. He knows the drill by now. Besides, Zander DiMarco is all talk.”
Glad he thought so. Because I wasn’t so sure. Zander was a showboater. He loved the attention and reputation. In my experience, people like that were dangerous and unpredictable.
But this was my job. My father—the Family—expected me to fall in line and carry out Nicco’s and Uncle Toni’s orders. You didn’t get to argue or shirk your responsibility. Once you swore Omertà, you were all in. Famiglia prima di tutto. The Family came first, always.
A heavy knock at the door indicated Enzo was too damn impatient to stay in his car.
“Lorenzo, how was the big city?” Mom greeted him.
“It’s the Big Apple, woman,” Dad called.
“Big city, big apple, it’s all the same.” She waved him off, directing Enzo toward the breakfast counter.
“Eat,” she said.
“I’m good thanks, Aunt Marcella. I already ate.”
“I bet you did.” I smirked and he discreetly flipped me off, but I didn’t miss the smug look of satisfaction on his face.
Dirty fucker.
But I was happy for him. Him and Nora. After all they’d been through, they deserved to be happy.
“You ready to roll?” He looked at me, and I nodded, snagging another cornetti.
“Let’s go.”
“Matteo!” Mom called after me, but we were already out of the door.
“So how was the Big Apple? Did you manage to do any sightseeing?” I asked Enzo the second we were in his car.
“Fuck off.” Enzo grumbled.
“What? It’s a legit question.” I chuckled. “Let me guess, you did nothing but sightseeing… Nora was so pumped about the trip.”
“She was pumped… a lot.” The smug fucker smirked, and I shook my head.
“Did you just make a joke? Fuck, man, I’m going to need to check for your balls because that girl has you all—”
“We saw the sights. I made her come twice on the trip to Ellis Island.”
I almost choked on my own breath. “I bet the other passengers loved that.”
“Hired a private boat.”
“Of course you did.”
“If it’s good enough for Nic.” He shrugged.
“I’m happy for you, man, the two of you deserved to come out on top.” Silence settled between us.
I knew Enzo probably wanted to take this trip as much as I did. Things were tense after DiMarco’s club got hit in a string of attacks on our businesses a few months back, and since Enzo had been there when it happened… I doubted Zander would be in a hurry to see him either.
But Nicco wanted us to handle it—so here we were. About to handle it.
“She’s good for you,” I said, glancing over at my cousin.
He was softer around the edges, we all saw it. He was still Enzo—the love of a good woman didn’t change that—but he was different.
My chest tightened, but I stuffed those memories down. It had been months since I’d spent one amazing night with a red-haired, green-eyed angel. Caitlin. If that was even her real name.
The three of us—Nicco, Enzo, and myself—had been in Providence and there’d been a bad storm. I’d stumbled across a girl being threatened in a dark alley… and well, one thing led to another, and I’d spent the night at her place. It was the best sex I’d ever had. But she refused to give me her number, and when I’d finally plucked up the courage to drive back down there a few weeks later, to track her down, she was gone.
And I went back to my life without the Irish beauty who had marked my soul.
Enzo’s cell phone started ringing, but he took one look at the number and ignored it.
“Who is that?”
“Beats me.” He shrugged.
It immediately started ringing again.
“Maybe you should answer it? It could be important.”
He plucked the thing out of the center console and barked, “Yeah?”
I smirked. He was such a grumpy asshole still. I guess there were some things not even Nora could change.
“What? Yeah, okay. We’re on our way.” He hung up and grumbled, “Fuck.”
“What is it?”
“When I was down here with Gino, I helped one of Zander’s girls out. I think that fucker was hurting her.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I don’t know for sure what went down. But I gave her my number in case she ever needed help.”
“That was her?”
“No, that was the hospital.”
“Fuck,” I breathed. “Is she okay?”
“They didn’t say much, but she specifically asked for me.”
“She’s at Providence General?”
“No, she’s at County in Pawtucket. So, we’re going to have to make a detour.”
“Sure, man. Whatever you need.” If there was one thing I hated, it was men who beat women.
Thirty minutes later, we arrived at the hospital. A nurse directed us to the correct bay and Enzo went off to chat with another nurse. The place was a hive of activity as staff came and went, treating patients. I’d never much liked these places because they usually ended in bad news.
“She’s down here.” Enzo beckoned me over and we went down another hall. “Bay five.” He grabbed the curtain and slipped inside.