Chapter 89
Amurmur of shock rippled through the room.
Alessandra’s anger disappeared as all the blood drained out of her face.
Niccolo tried to break the news gently, but there was no easy way to put it. “Ever since their father’s death, Cesare has been obsessed with getting revenge – but Lucrezia held him back. She took years to build their clan’s power base so they would have the resources to pull off the Amato caper.”
“What do they know about me?” Don Rosolini asked calmly.
“Presumably, whatever Don Amato knows,” Niccolo said. Then he corrected himself. “…knew.”
“You keep speaking as though the Camorra foot soldier isn’t lying,” Don Rosolini said. “Are we certain Don Amato is dead?”
“On the drive back to Florence, I tried calling both Don Amato and his consigliere,” Niccolo said. “Neither one answered.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Valentino retorted. “After Rome, we’re totally on the outs with the rest of the Cosa Nostra.”
“We spoke with Don Camerota just a few weeks ago,” Niccolo reminded him. “That whole thing with the foot soldier stalking Giorgio’s girlfriend.”
Valentino snorted. “So? That doesn’t mean everybody’s going to take your phone calls.”
“Which is why, with your permission,” Niccolo said to Don Rosolini, “I’d like to contact Don Severino and see if he or his consigliere will check in with the Amatos.”
Don Severino was the mafia don who ran all of Rome.
During the Council, he had made everybody promise not to attack any other Cosa Nostra family in attendance –
So the brothers had pissed him off royally when they’d killed Fausto.
Pissed him off so bad, in fact, that Don Severino had told them never to come back to Rome.
“You think he’ll answer?” Don Rosolini asked.
“He’ll listen to the message, that’s for sure. And I have a feeling he’ll want to ask us some questions.”
Don Rosolini nodded. “Do it.”
Niccolo excused himself and walked out of the parlor.
“What else did the Camorra foot soldier know?” Don Rosolini asked Adriano.
“Not a whole lot – he was just a low-level grunt. He said he was there the night of the raid on Don Amato’s compound. He didn’t see them get killed, but he saw the bodies afterwards – except for Amato’s daughter. She was out of the house that night.
“A couple of days after it all went down, Lucrezia told him and the other two guys – the ones Giorgio shot – to go burn down Bianca’s shop. They were hoping to find me there, but…”
“How did they find out who owned the dress shop?” Lars asked. “That wasn’t exactly widespread knowledge – or was it?”
Roberto grimaced. “Once Amato told Cesare and Lucrezia about our wives, all they had to do was search the internet for any mention of their names.”
Bianca frowned. “But I don’t have a website up yet – and you said the shopfront was rented under a bunch of shell corporations.”
Lucia suddenly gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth.
Bianca turned to look at her in alarm.
Lucia’s eyes filled with tears. “…my Instagram account…”
“Unfortunately,” Niccolo said in a quiet voice, “once they found out Massimo was married to the granddaughter of the Widow of Venice, all they had to do was Google you.”
Bianca’s face went slack as she realized what had happened:
The Camorra had targeted her shop because of all the pictures they had posted.
“I’m so sorry,” Lucia whispered. “I would have never done anything if – ”
“Stop. You were helping me.” Despite the pained look on her face, Bianca did her best to comfort Lucia. “Everything you did was to help me. It’s not your fault. Hell, I was the one who told you to put all those photos on there…”
“They would have found out one way or another,” Massimo told his wife.
“What else did they find out?” Lars asked in alarm.
“Do they know where we live?!” Alessandra asked in horror.
Roberto clenched his jaw. “Don Amato has been here multiple times throughout the years. If he told Cesare everything he knew…”
Alessandra looked at Don Rosolini in terror. As she did, her arms circled her pregnant belly, unconsciously trying to protect her unborn child.
Don Rosolini reached out and took one of her hands. “We’re safe here.”
“What, as safe as Don Amato?” Alessandra asked frantically.
“Don Amato was in the belly of the beast, surrounded by the Camorra,” Don Rosolini said. “Tuscany is enemy territory for them – and our estate has dozens of safeguards.”
“Rachel slipped through,” Alessandra said accusingly.
She was referring to when Rachel worked for Fausto and almost assassinated Don Rosolini.
Rachel winced at the reminder.
“We tripled our defenses after that,” Don Rosolini said to his wife. “If the Capronis tried to attack us, we would know about it when they were still a mile out.”
“What about the crack in the wall?!” Alessandra asked hysterically. “The one I crawled through?!”
She was talking about how she had escaped just days after Don Rosolini had brought her to the estate.
“We have a dozen cameras monitoring that entire area,” Lars said.
Alessandra realized something else.
“My father!” she cried out in anguish.
“He lives in a new house in Mensano, bought by one of our shell companies,” Roberto comforted her. “Don Amato didn’t know anything about that.”
“Plus, your father has a bodyguard with him at all times,” Lars said.
“A bodyguard? ONE man?!” Alessandra said, like Are you JOKING?!
“We’ll bring your father here immediately,” Don Rosolini said calmly.
“…my parents,” Bianca said, a hitch in her voice.
“We’ll bring them here, too,” Don Rosolini assured Bianca.
“I’m not exactly on great terms with my family,” Cat said meekly, “but – ”
“We’ll take care of them,” Don Rosolini said. “Anyone who could possibly be in danger, we’ll make sure they’re protected.”
Alessandra made the sign of the cross, and I saw her lips moving in a silent prayer.
The door to the parlor opened, and Niccolo walked back in. He held his phone out in one hand, and there was a serious look on his face.
“I have Don Severino on the line.”