“And you did this behind our backs,” Sergio clarifies. “The dating. This…man.”
“Obviously.”I don’t bother to frame my words politely. A muscle clenches in Sergio’s jaw, and Dario straightens beside me. Sergio sits back.
“You slept with him,” Timeo says quietly.
I nod. “I did. But for crying out loud, guys, there’s a lot more to this story than my deflowering, so may I continue?”
My brothers and cousins listen in silence. “I didn’t know Gray was involved with them. He paid attention to me. I thought I loved him. He used me. Asked for information about the Rossis, which should’ve been a warning to me, but I— I thought that it was sort of a celebrity thing, like he looked up to you guys and wanted to know what it was like being related.” I feel sheepish telling them, but it’s all the truth. “Like you’re all celebrities or something. I mean, people in school or work would ask questions all the time.”
“Of course they do,” Mario says with a smug grin. Gloria smacks him.
“I remembered that Dario said these people had money. He and Orlando thought they were trying to prevent the union of our family, the Montavios and yours, the Rossis. You all know that if we join forces and align ourselves with one another, we’ll be unstoppable. The most powerful organized crime family in the entire United States, if not the world.”
Sergio and Romeo look at each other and don’t respond, but Dario squeezes my shoulder again. We all know it to be true.
“Gray had us meet at a club in Boston. The very same one where Gloria and Mario caught us the night they took me into custody. I didn’t think much of it. I thought it was only a meeting place, but later I began thinking that it was more than that. So much more, because how would a group of out-of-state men even know a secret club like that existed? So I investigated.”
“When was that?” Dario asks me.
“Two nights ago.”
“You went into that club alone,” he says, his voice holding a dangerous tone.
“I had to.”
“Footage of the club,” Mario says, and all eyes go to his screen. I’m pretty confident he’s distracting them for me. Dario leans in and whispers in my ear, “Don’t you ever, ever, do anything like that again. It was way too dangerous for you to go in there alone. You’ll answer to me for that.”
A responding tingle vibrates through my body at the promise of a punishment from him. I swallow hard and pretend he hasn’t just lit my body on fire.
“Go on,” Romeo says.
“I asked around in the club and got some answers. Not only is that group dangerous and threatening, I also have it on good authority that their purpose here is to establish a new crime ring from Boston to Maine, for the direct purposes of drug trafficking and money laundering.”
“Right,” Orlando says tightly. “Got it.”
“So I did even more investigating. Found their headquarters on the wharf. Those boats were transporting more drugs than you can even imagine. And then I knew, I put it all together. They came after me and Gray because they knew if they framed me for attempting to assassinate Marialena I’d be ostracized from my family, and that no one would be looking beyond me as the target. And that if I were found guilty of attempting murder, there would be no way our two families would unite and strengthen.”
Santo whistles. Tavi nods his head. Mario shakes his from side to side.
“Makes sense.”
“Evidence?” Sergio asks sternly.
I nod and pull out my phone. I swipe it on and show the pictures, the documents, the transfers, the guilty faces of those who might’ve made an attempt on all our lives.
“How many survivors?” Romeo grinds out. Then, for an explanation, he turns to Sergio.
Sergio’s counting. “None from today’s attack. Not sure if there are any at the wharf.”We had one survivor until we left him with Santo. Now there are none.
Romeo makes a phone call. “We’ll know soon. Anything more, Vivia?”
I give him every boring, mundane detail that seemed irrelevant but now looks so clear after all that’s happened. I show him pictures and names, reveal everything I know.
“Excellent,” Romeo says with a smile, then smiles at Gloria. “She should work with you.”
Gloria grins at me. “She could. And I apologize I suspected you were guilty, Vivia. That’s eaten me up terribly, knowing everything you went through. And I pointed the finger at you.”
“But they set you up,” I say, instantly forgiving her. She smiles softly at me, accepting my forgiveness. Aunt Tosca is right. We women have to stick together.