I open the door to Mario. His hair’s still wet from a shower, and he’s antsy, tapping his foot. “How’s Rosa?” he asks, without a trace of accusation. The door to her room’s shut tight. They know that we’re in separate quarters here. They also know we’re only a door away from each other, but we’ve been so careful to appear like nothing more than brother and sister. No one’s ever let on they suspect a damn thing.
And honestly, until I came home this time… until I came back to America, to Rosa single and brooding… there was nothing to suspect.
I watched that woman take vows to a man who’d use and abuse his authority over her. Watched it as a made man, witnessing the lawful promises.
I drowned myself in pussy to quiet the demons that screamed in my head, and she knew it. I wanted her to know it. I wanted to make her jealous.
Never said our relationship was fucking healthy.
Mario looks over my shoulder before I answer. “Rosa’s good. Didn’t want to talk last night. I fired the nanny and went downstairs, barely spoke to her, but she’s safe, brother.”
What a douchebag move, to remind him of my vow to keep her safe. To distract him from the knowledge that she ain’t safe from me.
“Good,” he says, exhaling, then lowers his voice. “I’m afraid for the girls. It’s the next move they’d make, I think.”
“Agreed,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “Agreed. Good damn thing we’ve got Montavio bulldogs on staff now, brother.”
Mario grins. “Goddamn right.”
The door to her bedroom opens, and Rosa comes out, looking as put together and refined as if she’d spent an hour getting ready. It’s like her superpower.
“Morning, boys.”
“Morning,” we say in unison.
“Mama!” Natalia runs down the hall from Marialena’s room, dressed in a pretty white dress and patent leather shoes. God help them all when this kid’s a teen.
“Hey, baby,” Rosa says.
“Uncle Santo, are you staying here?”
I nod. “Yeah, Natalia, I’m staying here for now, so I can watch over you and your Mama. We have to stay safe because we think there are people who could be threatening you all.”
Natalia nods and grins. “Yayyyyyyy!” she squeals.
Mario laughs out loud, as we head downstairs for breakfast. “Hey, you don’t get that excited when I come around.”
“I do when you bring me rock candy from the store,” Natalia says, ever pragmatic. In the past six months, Mario’s taken to managing a car shop north of here, near Rockport, a quaint seaside town with little shops and a boardwalk. He buys Natalia sparkling pink rock candy on a stick that she goes crazy for.
“Rosa, you gotta talk to your daughter about her materialistic ways,” Mario says with a wink.
“Nope,” she says with a cool smile. “The sooner she learns that men should spoil her, the better.”
Ah, right. I give her a discreet little pinch. She said that for my sake and doesn’t really mean it. I lean over and whisper in her ear, “Ain’t no one spoiled on my watch, woman. Don’t think I forgot your punishment.”
She flushes pink, probably more to do with fear that someone will overhear than anything, but Natalia and Mario are several steps ahead of us. Without a response, she pulls away and sniffs.
But she’s wet, I know she is, and I’m going to tease her along as best I can.
People don’t know Rosa like I do. They think she’s materialistic and aloof, cold and even selfish. But she isn’t. Her heart beats as strongly as anyone’s, and she loves so deeply she’s selective with where and how she shows it. While Marialena loves everyone and everything that moves, Rosa’s more careful.
That makes it all the more special to me.
We have serious business to tend to today, all of us. Tavi’s in full Boss mode, pulling out all the stops on who we investigate and who we interrogate. I’ve got a few leads but wanted to wait until the Montavios arrived to fill him in.
I don’t care for anyone outside the Rossi family but the Montavios, probably because I know they’re related to Mama. They’re also just damn ruthless, and you gotta admire a family that’s more ruthless than the Rossis.
The smell of bacon and coffee wafts through the air, and I push away the feeling that I’m on vacation. I’m not. The Family’s in trouble, and it’s up to me and all the made men of the family to ensure everyone stays safe during Romeo’s absence.
But damn, it feels good to be back. To roam freely. To be with Rosa again. To be near all of them.
It isn’t the same in Tuscany.
Romeo’s exile was a sentence carried out because I kept silent. And a part of me hopes now that I’m about to tell them everything, the damn exile will be lifted. But I need to do it in such a way that Rosa isn’t implicated. I don’t want her to feel burdened by me.