Chapter 30
Tommaso
Gina sleeps curled on her side, hugging my pillow. When I had returned earlier, she had told me about getting sick and the negative pregnancy test. She tried to hide her disappointment with a smile, saying we’d keep trying. She was pale, though, and I’m concerned.
I worry that I’m pushing her too hard, too fast. But the timer counting down to when I’d have to reveal that I wouldn’t be marrying Rosa because I was already married to Gina was hurtling closer and faster.
I needed to figure out how to explain this to my wife, on top of continuing to try to get her pregnant.
The two aren’t exclusive and independent of each other.
Gina could freak out that I’m technically engaged to another woman, which would impact her willingness to let me touch her, and I couldn’t waste a moment of opportunity.
I had to time this perfectly and use every second wisely.
The other concerning thing is the memories of her father and her reaction to the ones about him recently.
The ones of the Babbo version of him bring her nostalgic happiness; the way she speaks of her parents when she was a young girl, and of the close-knit family they were, bring her peace.
She wants that sort of family for us, and I’ll do anything and everything to make that happen.
But it’s the other fleeting memories of her father and the man he is now that have me concerned.
Especially whatever the memory was today that had made her vomit, but she wouldn’t give me any details. She just shook her head and said it was her mind getting the memory wrong or twisting it somehow. It seemed to upset her when I pushed her to talk about it, so I let it go.
Leaning down, I kiss her forehead softly, then leave the bedroom to go down to my office and call Johnathon.
I want him to come tomorrow to give her a complete check-up, as well as draw blood.
I want a blood analysis to make sure everything is okay, and I want him test her blood to see if she might actually be pregnant.
Etta insisted that home pregnancy tests could be wrong or might not be able to detect them this early. She knows what’s at stake here, but she also knows how much Gina and I want a child.
The house is quiet and dark as I make my way to the office. I’ve sent Marco away, even though he could easily stay within one of the wings in the house. Silvio is back in LA, overseeing our territory there.
I need both of them to return to their homes and act normally so my father stops asking so many questions.
The meetings to discuss the formation of the Chamber have been tense, but they’re progressing well.
The fact that Kai Xhang and the Triads are fully onboard has helped convince the other crime factions that we’re serious about this, since the warring between the Triads and the Santoros has been the worst among us.
Guilt pushes in that I’m still keeping Gina so isolated, but it can’t be helped, not until the threat to her has been completely neutralized.
My phone rings as I walk into my office, and I consider letting it go to voicemail so I don’t have to delay my phone call to Johnathon. However, I answer as I sit behind my desk.
“Tommaso,” Vincenzo greets me, and I grit my teeth.
“It’s late, Vincenzo.”
He chuckles. “Sorry, it’s early morning here.”
“What can I do for you?” I ask, even though I know what he’s calling about, even if I don’t know why.
“I’m wondering what you’ve been able to find out about Gina.”
My teeth grind, but when I answer, there’s no emotion. “There was a possible sighting of her in Pennsylvania.” The lie rolls smoothly and easily off my tongue.
“Pennsylvania? Why would she be there?”
“No idea. When I find out more, you’ll be the first to know.” No, he won’t. “Any intel on your end of where Franco Caruso might be?”
I suspect we’re playing a predator’s game of hunting for the prey that neither of us want the other to find.
“No sign of him. None of the guards at his home had any idea? Aren’t they all your men?”
There’s a challenge, a taunt in his words. He’s trying to bait me into anger, make me lose control and, hopefully, reveal something to him.
“And I understand that one of your men is unaccounted for,” he adds. “Leandro went missing at the same time as Franco.”
Vincenzo might think he’s subtly insulting me, along with trying to taunt me; however, he just revealed something in the process. Something that supports my suspicions that he knows more than he’s letting on, because it’s not common knowledge that Leandro is missing.
But before I can respond, he continues, “I also wanted to let you know, I’m calling a Don’s meeting. You’ll need to be in Catanzaro in two weeks.”
“I’m not formally a Don,” I say through clenched teeth.
He chuckles as if he forgot. “My apologies. But Stefano mentioned he wanted you there. Have you not spoken with him?”
Another dig, trying to get me to lose control. But this smug bastard isn’t getting under my skin.
I relax back in my chair. “Neither my father nor I will be there.”
“These meetings are mandatory,” he flares.
“Yes, well, I’m getting married close to that time. I don’t imagine Arturo will be there, either.”
“Ah, yes, your upcoming nuptials to the beautiful Rosa. Tell me again why your two families are binding together since we’re all already allied.”
“To gain what we all want more of: power,” I say, knowing this will inflame him more, and knowing Vincenzo as I do, it will push him.
He doesn’t disappoint.
“Is that a threat?” he snarls.
“Why would it be?”
I know he has doubts about leading. Emanuele had kept him out of the fold, rather than having his successor involved in the leadership of their family, as well as the ‘Ndrangheta as a whole. Instead, he undermined him and sidelined him every chance he got.
There’s no doubt that Vincenzo could be a strong leader—he bleeds ‘Ndrangheta through and through—but he’s never been given the opportunity, nor has he had the role-modeling to confidently step into the role.
“Relax, Vincenzo.”
He huffs. “Let me know when you have any luck finding Gina.”
“Why?” I fist the phone. “Why do you care or want her?”
He’s silent for a moment. “To gain what we all want more of,” he finally answers cryptically. “Keep me posted.”
Then he hangs up.
Fucking prick.
I ruminate on what he said. He threw my own words back at me, but not completely. To gain what we all want more of. But he didn’t say power. Does that omission mean anything? And how can Gina be the key to him getting more of anything, let alone power?
She isn’t from a powerful mafia family or even a powerful civilian family.
Nothing is making any fucking sense.
I rub my forehead, contemplating everything when my phone rings again. This time, it’s my father.
“Figlio,” he greets.
“Papà.” I keep the tension from my voice.
“Why are you ignoring your bride-to-be?” he demands in Italian.
“That’s what you called about?” My anger flares.
“Yes. Arturo says—”
“I don’t give a shit what that bastard says or thinks.”
“Control yourself,” he barks. “A leader is in control. Always. Have I taught you nothing?”
“I just got off the phone with Vincenzo,” I say instead of responding to the asinine comment about ignoring a woman I can’t stand, but I rein my raging emotions under control.
“You’re upset that you’ll be involved in the ‘Ndrangheta meeting?”
“No. I’m pissed because I heard about it from him and not you.”
He tuts. “I’ve been busy and haven’t had time to call. It’s something that has just been called.”
“It won’t work. The timeline is too tight for the wedding.”
“It can,” he insists.
“After the meeting in Italy, I’d land back here and have to head straight to the church. I thought you said I’ve been ignoring my bride-to-be,” I give his own words back to him. “How do you think she’ll take that?”
I don’t give a shit because I won’t be marrying the vain, self-absorbed Rosa Altera.
He grunts, and I ask softer, “What’s really going on, Papà?”
“Whenever the ‘Ndrangheta meeting is called, you will be there,” he orders instead of answering. “Vincenzo has asked that all the seconds-in-command attend. Since you oversee our territory in the States, even though you’re not my formal second-in-command, I need you there.”
“Having the seconds-in-command attend these meetings isn’t something Emanuele requested or allowed.”
“Vincenzo claims there’s going to be some changes in how things are done.”
I don’t miss the tension in his voice, so I ask again, “What’s really going on?”
He inhales deeply, then orders, “Whenever the meeting is called, you’ll be there.” But then his tone softens. “Take care, figlio.”
He hangs up, and I’m left to stare at the phone in my hand, my guts swirling at the thought of leaving my wife here, unprotected without me.
The sand in the hourglass is almost out, and her life hangs in the balance.