Chapter 30 #2
“You wanted me to have a visit with your mother, and I happened to be in the neighborhood.” I face the older woman and incline my head in greeting. “Mrs. Fabbri, I am glad to see you are doing well.”
Iris’s mom’s eyes narrow into a glare. “Nice of you to drop by, Mr. Ruffo. Would you like to join us for coffee? I’ve been looking forward to getting to know the man my daughter has committed to spending her life with.”
While her tone is perfectly polite, there is no missing the lack of warmth in it, or the reproach in her blue eyes. This woman doesn’t like me one bit.
“I would be delighted.” I smile and take a seat on the only other available chair in the room.
Serafina Fabbri stares me down with little regard for her own well-being, despite her current state of health.
The years of struggles have taken an obvious toll on her body, but somehow, a shadow of the robust and sturdy woman she must have once been still comes through.
Even with unmistakable weight loss, she’s broader and taller than her daughter, and her hair is a shade or two darker.
However, there’s no denying the resemblance in their other features.
The shape of the face. The mouth. The nose.
But not their eyes. That’s where their differences are most apparent.
And not just in the color of their expressive depths.
Mrs. Fabbri’s eyes are those of a woman who has lived through too much, learned from the experiences, and kept the painful lessons close to her heart.
I’m pretty sure she didn’t buy a word of what I just said to my wife.
“Um…” Iris mumbles, her gaze bouncing between her mother and me. “I’ll put on another pot of coffee, alright?”
My eyes track my wife as she rushes to the kitchen that’s barely more than three feet of counter space, a sink, and a couple of appliances.
But here, too, everything shines with careful maintenance.
Iris looks more than a little nervous as she spins left and right, taking out a canister from the cupboard and busying herself with the coffee machine.
“I believe I remember your father.” My mother-in-law’s voice jolts me into the moment. “He was involved with a lot of la Famiglia’s warehouse dealings, was he not?”
“Yes,” I reply, not looking away from my wife. I still haven’t completely shaken off the tendrils of fear that gripped me when I heard that scream.
“And what is it you do, Mr. Ruffo? Iris tells me you run a very successful transportation company, but you see, I believe it’s a bit more than that. Something shady, probably. Lately, my daughter has developed an unpleasant habit of lying to me for my own good.”
“Mom!” Iris whisper-yells. “Please!”
With my eyes still trained on my wife, I accept the coffee cup she brings me, and only after she sits back down on the sofa do I let my attention shift to her mother.
“I contribute to various investments.”
Serafina gives me a tight-lipped smile. “Iris, dear. Could you head over to Mrs. Soto’s on sixth and borrow her blood pressure monitor?”
“Why?” Iris springs up. “Are you not feeling well? Should I call the nurse or take you to the hospital?”
“I’m perfectly fine. The doctor insists that I continue to keep records of my vitals, and my blood pressure monitor has been glitching lately.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Mom? Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay, I’ll be back shortly.”
The space is so cramped that as Iris passes me, her hand brushes my arm. And even that inadvertent touch that lasted less than a split second sets all my nerve endings on fire.
“Theo,” I start to call out when Iris opens the apartment door, but he is already following her down the hallway.
Before the door swings shut in their wake, my wife throws a frantic look over her shoulder in our direction. Countless worries shine bright in her amber eyes, and I feel each one like a blow to my gut. Does she believe I would hurt her mother?
Serafina leans against the back of the sofa, her hawk-like gaze once more on me. She scrutinizes me for nearly a full minute before she speaks.
“I don’t like you, Mr. Ruffo.”
“Adriano, please.”
“I don’t like you one bit, Adriano.”
“I noticed,” I say cordially and incline my head in acceptance. “And, given the refreshing honesty of this exchange, I will put it plainly. I don’t give a fuck.”
Surprise flashes in my mother-in-law’s eyes. “I see. Alright. Since we’re speaking openly, let me ask you again. What do you actually do for la Famiglia?”
I smile. The woman may look frail, but she is shrewd. “I control the means, the modes, and the routes of transporting narcotics, and do so not only for Boston Cosa Nostra, but on behalf of the majority of the syndicates operating across the Eastern Seaboard and throughout the Midwest.”
If my answer surprised her further, she doesn’t let me see.
“Is that why you have minions following my daughter wherever she goes?”
“I have them because I do not take chances with what is mine.”
The look she gives me is pure venom. “Do not refer to my child as if she’s an object that you own.
She is light and kindness. A sweet, selfless soul who should be cherished.
Treasured. Adored. I know damn well that she’d sacrifice everything in her life for the people she loves.
So I want to know… What did you promise my daughter to get her to marry you? ”
I raise an eyebrow.
“I might be getting on in years, but I’m not stupid. And I know my girl much better than she thinks. Was it my surgery, the medical bills? You paid for it all, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, my silly, silly girl. I knew that story about the charity choosing me as their grand recipient was nothing but baloney.” She shakes her head. “And you! What kind of man blackmails a woman into marrying him?”
“One without scruples, I assure you.”
“Unscrupulous and vile, no doubt. My daughter deserves better than the likes of you.”
“I couldn’t agree more. But she is mine, and if anyone tries to take her from me, they will suffer swift and extremely unpleasant consequences.”
Serafina cocks her head to the side. “Anyone?”
“Even you.”
Silence fills the tiny apartment as my mother-in-law stares into my eyes.
Hers remain fixed as if she’s searching for evidence of whether I’m being serious or not.
And I let her. Lay open my absolute conviction about this.
If she thinks she could keep my Little Iris from me, I’ll end her life with my bare hands.
“You’re a monster,” she finally says.
“Aren’t we all? To some extent or another? Wouldn’t you kill to protect Iris from harm? Put down whatever putz threatened her?”
“Without blinking an eye. Would you?”
“Mark my words, and mark them well.” Fury consumes me at the fact that this woman thinks I would let my Little Iris get hurt on my watch.
“I. Will. Destroy. The world. To keep. Her. Safe. And I will die before I fail. That’s not a promise but a guarantee.
” I lean back, throwing my arm over the back of the sofa, then steady myself to make my tone sound more normal.
“But for the sake of argument—yes. If anyone does try, he will die. Eventually.”
“Eventually?” she sneers.
“Yes, eventually. Because the miserable shit would first learn what it’s like to exist as a useless lump of flesh and bodily fluids.
I’d break every goddamned bone in their body.
Slowly, taking my time. Days. I’ll turn their limbs into string confetti, their organs into a perforated mess.
The fucker will die choking on their own blood.
” I take a sip of coffee. “But before I’d let them slip away into oblivion, they’d understand one irrevocable fact.
And that’s precisely where they went wrong in life.
Breathing the same air as my wife. And then, I’d do it all again.
But this time, with their family. Their friends.
Even their fucking tailor, if they’ve got one.
The point is, they will die. But it won’t be quick or painless.
” Leaning forward, I pin my mother-in-law with my gaze.
“You don’t have to like me. You can think of me as a monster.
But know this… Anyone who comes for my wife, anyone who so much as thinks of harming even a single hair on her head…
They won’t simply be tortured and eliminated. They will be erased.”
“I see.” She leans back into the couch cushions, an odd, satisfied smile playing on her lips. “You should drop by more often.”
My eyebrows rise. “Changed your mind about me already?”
“On the contrary.” The spoon scrapes the sides of her cup as she stirs her coffee, eyes downcast. “Iris believes her father died on the job. That was the official version of events. In truth, he was killed in retaliation for gutting another member of la Famiglia who tried to rape me while I was walking home a few days earlier. Don Veronese made it right, though, punishing my husband’s murderer.
A lot of blood was spilled in a short time.
” She looks up from her cup and directly into my eyes.
“Perhaps, in a world full of cold, ruthless monsters, the safest place for my daughter is in the most vile monster’s heart. ”
“Crap,” I mumble as I run down the stairs like a madwoman, clutching the blood pressure thingy under my arm, while my ever-present shadow, Theo, follows.