Chapter 17 #2
She’s far more inconspicuous than I am, but I know it means she’ll vouch for Vita. Considering how confrontational they were when we arrived, I’d say we’ve moved forward by leaps and bounds.
“Elodie—”
“It’s Elle.”
My tía interrupts her with what is such a benign comment in most situations, but in this one, she’s proven Vita is someone she trusts. The only people I’ve heard her introduce herself to like that are my cousins’ wives.
“Thank you.”
Vita’s voice is softer than it has been since we arrived. I don’t think she feels on the defensive as much as before.
“Elle, perhaps I can help you make a list of the most likely hitmen. We could narrow down who would take a job with your nephews or me as targets.”
Over the next fifteen minutes, the two of them list nearly four dozen people.
The rest of my family sits in some state of awe as the two women go back and forth, not only naming men and women, but assessing their skills and likelihood to take on a job where they targeted my family or a fellow mercenary.
It’s a conversation I’m certain no one in my family ever expected to hear.
When they’ve exhausted the possibilities, Vita inhales and looks at Tío Enrique.
“I should call my father.”
The statement hangs in the air as everyone stares at her.
“My parents know what I am, but they’ve never asked, and I’ve never offered information about my work.
I’ve asked about jobs I’ve heard about that could affect me, so it wouldn’t be unprecedented for me to be curious about a hit on someone like Alejandro.
That’s one that would’ve caused a commotion if I’d gone through with it.
There’s always the chance my father could find out if there’s a hit on the mercenary who’s failed.
He could find out whether there’s one specifically on me.
He and I have worked with people who would tell my father, some out of respect and others with glee.
I don’t have to come right out and say what I’m asking for and why. I can allude to it.”
I’ve sat quietly through most of this conversation, but now I speak up.
“You’re not taking that call alone. I won’t say anything, but I will be there for it.”
Vita’s head slowly turns toward me, her expression shifting from incredulous to stubborn.
“I will speak to my father whenever I want, and I don’t need your permission to do that. Do you not trust me again?”
I’m kicking myself for speaking up in front of my family.
I’m not an impetuous man by nature, but there’s something about this woman who makes me act before I think.
The entire room stares at us. My gaze darts to my cousins who are laughing like hyenas.
Tía Luciana shoots them a silencing glare which only makes them sound like balloons withering.
This isn’t the best place to have a whispered conversation, especially since it’ll be about my family, but I got myself into this shit. I lean over to bring my lips as close to her ear as I can.
“I trust you, Vita, and right now so does my family. Given who your father is and the situation we’re in now, my family’ll be far more trusting if I hear the conversation. No matter what’s said, I’ll remain silent.”
I sense she’s just as uncomfortable as I am about whispering in front of everybody. I can also tell she resents the situation I put her in, but she goes along with it as she whispers her reply to me.
“Are you always going to listen in on all my conversations?”
“No. I offered to before anyone could insist my tío or cousins be there too. I’m offering you as much privacy as I can.”
She huffs, clearly not in agreement.
“Chiquita, I’m doing this to protect you. I know you rarely agree with, want, or appreciate my type of protection, but I still give it freely.”
She turns her head, and our noses practically brush together. She narrows her eyes and glares at me before continuing to whisper.
“I may not want or agree with your type of protection, but I’ve never been unappreciative of it. I can dislike it while still being grateful for it. If I’ve come across as unappreciative, then I’m sorry.”
We both calm down, and our expressions relax.
There’s something deep and even tender that passes between us as our gazes lock for a moment.
Her temper looked like it was ready to combust, but she reined it in.
I realize a simple explanation rather than insisting went a long way.
I know that’s common sense to most people, and it would be to me in most situations, but my protectiveness ran away with my mouth.
I remind myself she survived six years as a spy and two years as a mercenary before we met.
She’s obviously capable of taking care of herself, but now that she doesn’t have to do it alone, I want to share that burden with her.
Instead of communicating that, I was simply overbearing. I sweep my thumb over her knuckles.
We whisper “thank you” at the same time.
“Jandro, I know you’re just trying to help.”
“If you know my intentions are sincere, why must you insist upon rejecting my help?”
“Because I’m used to doing everything on my own.”
“You’re not alone anymore, chiquita. Take my help with the sincerity it’s offered. If you keep rejecting it, I’ll spank you.”
Heat flares in her eyes when she nods. I can tell she takes my comment as a challenge rather than a warning. I speak without shifting my attention away from her.
“Tío Enrique, may we use your office for that call?”
“Sí, sobrino.”
We rise and walk down the hallway to my tío’s study. Vita pulls her phone from her pocket and unlocks it. We sit on a sofa together as she hits her father’s contact. It rings twice.
Nicolò sounds groggy. “Toria?”
“Sì, papà.”
I have a moment’s fear that their entire conversation will be in Italian. However, she eases that worry.
“I’m somewhere where I need to speak English. Otherwise, it’ll draw too much attention if anybody catches a word here or there.”
“Are you not somewhere you can speak in private?”
“I am, but I just don’t want to run the risk of anyone hearing Italian.”
“All right. It’s the middle of the night here. Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“Yes, this is just my only opportunity to check in with you. I’m hearing things about you and the Torettas. It doesn’t sound good.”
“What do you mean by that, Toria?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense to me. We’ve been allied with them for decades, but I couldn’t tell from what I overheard whether that’s still the case. I caught something about our family clashing with another. Then I heard the Torettas’ name.”
There’s a long pause before her father responds. I didn’t think she’d begin the conversation about something unrelated to me, but maybe she’s warming him up.
“Did you hear this in passing or because of whatever your current assignment is?”
“My current assignment led me somewhere that caused me to hear this. It’s why English is better.”
She hasn’t lied to her father, but the way she’s phrased things suggests she’s in Italy, and that’s why she can’t have anyone overhearing her speak the language. It shows she has just as flexible a relationship with the truth as I do.
“The Carosis and Torettas are fine. It’s the ’Ndrangheta and the Camorra that we have problems with.”
“Don’t we always have problems with ’Ndrangheta? What do the Camorra have to do with this?”
There’s another long pause before he responds. “The power struggle is a little worse than it usually is because each alliance has some outside help.”
“Outside help, Papà?”
“Foreign syndicates based in New York.”
“Do you think anyone in the Camorra or ’Ndrangheta knows who I am?”
“You know that’s a possibility, tesoro.” Treasure.
That’s what she is to both her father and me. I’ll remember not to use that endearment and leave that as something special with her father.
“Why are you asking? Did something happen?”
“There was an incident today.”
“What do you mean incident?” His tone went from a concerned father to vengeful Mafioso in a heartbeat.
“I’m not sure if my job’s gone sideways, and I just got caught in the middle of somebody else going after my target, or whether my employer is dissatisfied with my work. I was wondering if someone made me and targeted me because I’m your daughter.”
“Are you hurt, Toria? Did they shoot you? Stab you?”
“Papà, Papà, calm down. I was near my target when somebody shot in our direction.”
“Come home, Toria. With this war going on and the New York bratva and mob sticking their hands into it, it would be better if you laid low here for a while.”
We’ve been looking at the phone in her hand, but now she watches me while responding.
“I can’t, Papà. The job isn’t done.”
“I’ll send men for you. They’ll escort you home.”
“If this was about me, then that’s far too conspicuous.”
“Toria, you need to come home.”
“Papà, if you push this, then I’ll disappear. You know I can. I’ll come home when things are settled here.”
“Can you at least tell me which country you’re in?”
“I’m in the Western Hemisphere, Papà.”
“Northern or Southern?”
Vita doesn’t answer.
“Fine, Toria, but you know if you can’t go home, you go to Serafina.”
“I know, Papà.”
“She won’t ask questions, and she can get you back here.”
“I know. She knows as much about what I do as you and Mamà. I know I don’t have to explain anything to her. She’ll help if I ask for it.”
“Toria, I’m serious. If I suspect there’s something wrong, I won’t give you a choice. I’ll call Serafina and tell her to expect you. I’ll tell Carmine to find you.”
“Yes, Papà.”
That hits me between the eyes. I deduced from what she said earlier about them being shooting buddies that they were close, but I didn’t realize they were still close enough for Serafina to know what’s likely one of the most guarded secrets her Mala del Brenta family has.
“I’ll let you know if I need anything, Papà, or if anything comes up.”
“Ti voglio bene, tesoro.” I love you, treasure.
“I love you too, Papà.”
She ends the call as I try to gather my thoughts, that are now racing a million miles a minute. I hate the idea of her turning to the Mafia for help. I understand it, but I hate it.
“Would you really go to Serafina?”
Vita’s reluctant to answer, so she slowly nods.
“Only if I absolutely had to. Now that I know your family, and we’re—well, whatever we are—I would come here first. If I had no other option, then I would go to Sera and Carmine.”
“If Serafina knows who you are and what you are, would she admit if her family was involved in the hit against me?”
“Even if she knew, she wouldn’t tell me. Just like I wouldn’t tell her.”
“What if I went with you, and she saw we’re involved?”
“That would give away far too much since she’d never keep that from Carmine.”
“We could pretend I don’t know what you are, but we’re involved.” I don’t believe it as the words come out.
“They’d never believe you haven’t dug into my background or that if you had, you found nothing.”
“Then we say we’re together, and I know your father is Mala del Brenta, and that’s how you know Serafina. That would explain why I wouldn’t let you go to Carmine’s house without me. We could say that without giving away that I know you’ve been a gun for hire.”
She stares at me incredulously. “You cannot believe Carmine would think you’re dating a woman without knowing her entire background. Do you think he thinks you’re that big a fool?”
“No. But he’ll understand you’re important to me. And if his family’s in this up to their eyeballs and you’re near me, it’ll make them think twice about their involvement.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Positive. The Mancinellis know their involvement in anything that could risk you getting hurt will cause World War III.”
“Because he knows your temper?”
My gaze hardens to the one I use to intimidate people. Not because that’s what I want to do to her, but so she understands how far I will go to deal with someone else.
“He’ll understand what the fuck’s going on when I show up with my woman.”
“Your woman?”
“Vita, you’re the only woman I’ve dated in more than fifteen years.
You’re certainly the only one I’ve ever brought home.
You’re the only one I’d risk showing up to a rival’s home with.
There’s no misunderstanding what that means when all the men in the Four Families are the exact same about the women they date, then marry. ”
She must be coming around to the idea because she barely bats an eyelash at my proclamation.
“Then is it worth letting him know the real reason we’re there?”