Chapter 16 #2
Dad is the only one who’s allowed to call me princess.
If anyone calls me a Mafia princess, they find out right snappy there’s nothing gentile about my reaction.
I’ve broken fingers and noses for the insult.
It’s never said with the respect due someone who serves the people of their kingdom.
Someone who’s sacrificed for those people to have food, shelter, and security.
They see the mansion I grew up in not the virtual prison it was with armed guards patrolling the grounds.
The exotic trips I took as a kid were more often than not a disguise for my dad’s illegal business meetings.
The expensive cars that cost more than they could imagine because of the after-market safety devices.
The designer clothes because it’s a constant keeping up with the Joneses among the syndicates, and you never know who you might run into.
“Tre and our child will always be my first priority. Nothing is more important than their safety and happiness.”
“Tre?”
“Yes, Dad. That’s what Joaco calls me. Just like no one else calls Mom Leenie.”
My dad and I stare at each other for a protracted moment before he nods. He steps back from the bed and wraps his arm around my mom, guiding her to sit on the chair she still hasn’t used.
“Mom said Uncle Tommaso and Aunt Stella are coming. Uncle Santi and Aunt Tori too.”
“They’re in the waiting room. When you’re up for seeing more people, they’ll come back.”
“Actually, Ms. Vizzini, your room is ready.” A nurse tentatively steps past the curtain.
“Thank you.”
Finally.
There’s a shit ton that still needs discussing, but none of us will bring it up in the ER with only curtains for privacy.
The nurse moves around, unplugging things.
When she flips the pedal that unlocks the bed, Joaquin grabs my IV and monitor pole.
He’s careful to stay even with me, so nothing tugs at the needle in my forearm.
His imposing size makes several people move out of the way rather than making him fall a step behind.
My mom holds my hand while my dad has his arm wrapped around her waist. I’m certain we make an odd sight.
It feels like forever before we make it to my private room.
While the nurse and Joaquin help me move to the room’s bed, my parents make quick calls to my family.
Dad calls Uncle Tommaso to tell him they can all come up.
Mom calls Tristano. He’ll let Rocco, Dante, and Edmondo, along with the other senior capos, know I’m in one piece.
If things are about to get uncomfortable when Uncle Tommaso and Uncle Santi come face to face with Joaquin, they’d probably get violent if my brother and cousins showed up.
There’s some bad blood between them and the Diazes.
I feel like I’m barely settled before someone knocks on my door. I dart my gaze to Joaquin who looks at the door before dropping his gaze to me. He holds out his right hand, and I gladly take it. I brace myself for whatever’s to come, but I doubt I’ll truly be ready.
Uncle Tommaso and Uncle Santino—Santi—walk in, each with their arm around their wife’s shoulders.
Aunt Stella and Aunt Tori rush forward, each engulfing me in a hug before shooting Joaquin glowers that would make a lesser man wither.
He takes it in stride. He lets go of my hand long enough to switch hands.
He extends his right one once I’m gripping his left.
“La madrina, Mrs. Carosi.”
Joaquin dips his head to my aunts, and I wonder how much he knows about them.
He knows to address Aunt Stella as “godmother,” and he defers to my other aunt with just as much respect.
When he shifts his attention to my uncles, his manner shifts.
It’s not arrogant enough to be considered smug, but there’s no deference.
He’s twenty years younger than them, but he’s so confident in his family’s standing that he’ll bow to neither of them.
“Don Tommaso, Santino.”
“I should kill you.”
“Tommaso, you’ve been saying that since I was sixteen and beat up Rocco for scratching my car—with his keys.”
He pauses then emphasizes the last three words. I recall something happening to my cousin when we were teenagers. Something to do with a rival syndicate, but I figured it was someone local. I thought it happened on a mission. Maybe not.
“Consider yourself lucky that I haven’t.”
My uncles lean in to hug me without suffocating me. They’re tentative, and it’d be sweet if I didn’t worry this meeting will erupt into a feud. I’m confident no one will throw any punches or stab anyone, but the animosity is practically palpable.
“Brazil is lovely this time of year.”
Oh, fuck.
I fight not to cringe as I observe Joaquin.
His gaze is locked with Uncle Tommaso’s, and neither of them will back down.
I know only a sliver of the details, but my uncle sent Elle down there while she and Enrique were dating.
It went so far sideways it flipped around.
It’s why Enrique said Elle could only come up here for two days before he’d make sure she didn’t murder my uncle.
She wound up not coming because I insisted we’d be fine.
We can see where that got us.
“I need to speak to my niece.”
Joaquin nods, but he goes nowhere. He hears my uncle’s declarative statement, but he doesn’t view it as a command. He must sense me staring at him because he shifts his attention to me. His thumb sweeps over the back of my hand.
“What do you want, chiquita?”
His voice is so soft it’s soothing. I don’t want him to go anywhere, but I have family things I need to discuss. I can’t do that with him in the room. I’d rather avoid what’s coming, but I can’t.
“It’s all right, Joaco.”
“Ten minutes. That’s it.”
Thank God.
“We’ll be done when we’re done, Joaquin.”
“That doesn’t work for me, Tommaso. Ten minutes and I return, or I don’t leave at all.”
“You think because you got my niece pregnant that you own her.”
“I think because I got your niece pregnant I trust you even less.”
“You piece of shit. You think I’d hurt my niece?”
“Of course not. Kathleen would murder you, and Stella wouldn’t stop her. Vittoria would hand Kathleen the weapon. But I believe you’ll guilt-trip her and pressure her into continuing whatever fucked-up mission you gave her.”
Oh fuck!
Uncle Tommaso doesn’t shift his focus to me, locked in a staring contest with Joaquin. But Uncle Santi’s gaze jumps to me, and I read the suspicion in his eyes.
“Santino, back off. Tre hasn’t told me a damn thing, but I know she’s hiding something.
For your sake, I hope you sent her to spy on the Mancinellis and not Tía Elle.
We’re going to share a family member soon.
You’re stuck with me. You decide how miserable you want to be.
Coerce my girlfriend into anything, ever—but especially while pregnant—and what I did in Cambria will be nothing. Guard your docks well.”
Joaquin bends over and kisses my forehead. I squeeze his hand, now not wanting to let him go. I shake my head and reach for him as he pulls away.
“Ten minutes, Tre. Call for me if you need me. I’m not going farther than the door, which will remain ajar enough to hear you if you yell.”
He kisses the back of my hand before letting go and walking across the room. I know he’s not abandoning me. But with my parents and two sets of aunts and uncles staring down at me while I’m stuck in this bed, I feel like I’m facing a firing squad.