“Who?”
Angelina nods to the staff member restrained by Mario. “Her.”
“No shit,” he mutters. “Want me to kill her?”
“Not yet,” Romeo says with a sigh. “Take her to the dungeon.”
“She looked vaguely familiar,” Angelina says, shaking her head. “But I couldn’t place her.”
Mario yanks his captive’s hair. “Tell the truth. Who are you?”
She doesn’t even try to fight him. “If I tell you the truth, will you spare my life?”
Mario shrugs. “There’s a small chance.”
The woman only sighs, as if she knew it would come to this. “Regazza paid me well. I knew Angelina wasn’t his daughter, and I went to him and told him.”
“He knew?” Romeo says in surprise.
Restrained, her face pressed up against the hardwood floor by the exit, she nods. “Yes. He paid me well to come here, to poison Angelina.”
I cock my pistol, but Romeo stays my hand. “No, brother. Not tonight. We’ve had enough bloodshed for tonight. All who’ve betrayed us and threatened the lives of our family will pay.” He nods to Mario. “Now bring her to the dungeon with Elise.”
Angelina’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t speak. If Elise is in the dungeon, she’s still alive. For now, that’s all that matters.
Santo moves quickly to remove Regazza’s body as Romeo continues to give orders. “Tavi, you’ll deal with our prisoners after dinner. And Orlando…” He looks to me and Angelina. “You wanted to talk to me about a plan you had.” His eyes twinkle at me. “She’s yours, brother. Do you still want to talk?”
I nod my head. “Yeah, we have a lot to talk about.”
Mama polishes off her drink and extends her arms. “Now, my loves, Nonna’s cooked us a standing rib roast with those potatoes you all love. Let’s eat, shall we?”
Angelina looks at me, a little stunned, but with relief shining in her eyes. “Your family’s crazy,” she whispers. “Like, certifiable. You know that, don’t you?”
I yank her over to me and kiss her head fiercely. “Welcome to the family, baby.”
CHAPTER 19
“How does he love me? With adoration, with fertile tears, With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.” ~ Twelfth Night, Shakespeare
Angelina
Orlando keeps me by his side through it all. Through every grueling, gritty detail as the rest of the day unfolds. I watch it in a sort of stupor, half regretting the nausea had passed so I didn’t have an excuse to go lay down and not emerge from the bedroom until the dust had settled.
First, Romeo took the big, beefy guards by the door and personally swept The Castle grounds for any remaining traitors or Regazza family. He found none.
“They were pretty confident, weren’t they,” he says to his brothers when they return to the Great Hall, the huge room in the center of The Castle where it seems all real business and gatherings take place.
“Jesus, you could say that again,” Mario says. “What kind of a fucking lunatic comes here when his life is forfeit and behaves the way he did?”
I can still see Orlando’s cool decision as he swiped the broken wineglass at Elise’s father. I can still see the way the broken glass swept through his skin like a hot knife through butter, splitting him wide open and spilling blood onto the pretty carpet Tosca hoped to save.
“It’s of no consequence,” Tosca says, leaning back in her chair with an aperitif after the good dinner her mother made. “My husband was more attached to that carpet than I am. I just wanted an excuse to tell that bastard Luigi what to do.”
I think I might love this woman.
Mario comes into the room with a grim expression on his face, accompanied by Marialena. “I’ll let you tell her story,” he says, taking a large platter of food the kitchen held for him. He eyes the tray of fresh-baked bread with only a few slices left and scowls at his brothers.
“I bake five loaves,” Nonna says, waving her hand at him to settle down. “Go on, tell story.” She waddles off to the kitchen to fetch more food for Mario and gives me a wink. “This why I no watch TV.”
I think I might love her, too.
“I came down to get some food to take with me to Tuscany,” Marialena begins, giving Romeo a sniff before she continues. He only shakes his head at her and sprinkles salad dressing on his salad, tucking into what must be his fifth plate of food. I have never in my life seen anyone eat like these guys do.
“You can stay,” he says. “But only because you were the one who blew the whistle.”
I’ll have to remember not to talk back to Romeo or give him shit about anything. It’s all archaic, but here I am, a member of this fierce, loyal, crazy family I don’t want to part from.
She sighs and raises her eyes heavenward before continuing her story. “I wanted to pack some snacks because the staff in Tuscany doesn’t cook as well as Nonna and Mama, you know that. And when I opened the pantry door, I saw a trail of blood.” Her eyes grow wide, like she’s telling a ghost story by the fire. She isn’t afraid of any of this. None of it is new to her. “I followed it, and that’s when I found her.” She makes a face of disgust. “She was naked, stripped of her uniform, so I knew immediately someone had taken her place.”