Chapter 36 – Nico
The music in the private dining area was the sweet blend of sound that only came from the classical era.
Sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and on the far side, there was a view of the terrace, but guests dining out there, huddled under the umbrellas and braving the summer heat, couldn’t see in the one-way panes of glass.
I stared over Boston, tugging at the crisp sleeves of my best dress shirt. My hand smoothed down my tie for the third time, and I debated going to the small oval mirrors framed by a gaudy piece of modern art to check my hair once more.
There wasn’t time.
The door opened and a petite woman sailed inside in a cloud of black. While she still wore somber clothes, mourning through her choice of garments, the sunny smile on her face said her tears had dried long ago.
“Nico!” She beamed, rushing straight into my arms.
I crushed her to me. “Finally. What took you so long?”
“Traffic.” She pulled back, put a hand on either side of my face, and said, “Let me look at you, boy.”
I held my breath while she studied me.
“I think you’re starting to grey since last summer,” she teased, flicking at my hair.
Her own was still jet black, and the fine lines around her eyes only crinkled when she laughed. Which she did at the look of disgust I gave her.
“You had me worried,” I grumped.
“Pshaw.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It would take more than the Grimaldi Famiglia’s whole army to stop me from seeing you.”
“The don is losing his mind,” I said quietly. “You really should have let me come to New York.”
Her nose scrunched. “And take you away from important things here? No, I can come to you. It’s easier now that you’re stateside, but I did enjoy visiting Naples with you the last few years.”
She released me, and we went to the small, intimate table. I pulled out her seat, helped her to sit, and then reached for the decanter of red wine.
“Tell me everything!” she insisted.
“First…” I poured. “Where is Tizi?”
“Your sister says hello, but she was going with a group of friends to some art exhibit or something equally as boring.” The pout on her face made her look decades younger. “I was invited, of course, but nothing was as important as seeing my son again.”
I rested a hand on her shoulder and felt a rush of warmth when hers covered it. “I’m so happy to see you, Mama.”
“Same.” She squeezed. “Now, spill! I want to know everything that you’ve been up to.”
I laughed and took a seat beside her. “You mean, my weekly phone calls haven’t been enough of a report?”
Donatella Grimaldi leaned forward, pinning me with a fierce look. “I had to learn secondhand that you did some crazy, backwoods line dance with an unknown woman at the don’s charity gala.”
My heart dropped to my stomach. “Who’s been gossiping about me?”
“My boy, the whispers have been running rampant across the underworld. It doesn’t matter my sources,” she countered, picking up her wine glass and cradling it against her chest as she watched me.
“She must be different to make you lose your head enough to caper about the dance floor in front of the Grimaldi Famiglia.”
“She is.” There was no point hiding from this woman. She’d see through any lie I tried to feed her.
“And the don?” One perfectly manicured brow arched. “What does my father-in-law have to say about her?”
I snatched a bruschetta from the tray in the center of the table. “Since he still considers me destined for his ward, you can infer his reaction to last night’s rebellion.”
I popped the small piece of crunchy bread in my mouth.
Her voice turned serious. “My brother has your back, whatever you decide to do. You know that, right, Nico?”
I swallowed. “I do.”
“Good.” Her red lips parted, and she took a long sip of her wine. “So you’ll be meeting your uncle as a don soon?”
I shook my head. “My plans are falling into place, but please don’t let your brother act until he hears from me. I can’t have this falling on you.”
The laugh she gave me was hollow. “I know my place in the war of kings. But I’m going to need more than generalities if I’m going to keep my brother from storming into the city. He’s been looking to crush your grandfather for years.”
I sighed. As much as I wanted to keep my mother out of the fire, I knew that was a losing game.
She was right, and she deserved to know everything.
So, before the first course was served, I told her everything.
How Don Grimaldi’s heart was likely to give out any day.
That the capos in the famiglia cared only for their own lavish lifestyles.
How the crews working the streets felt like leadership didn’t have their backs and were constantly putting the men at risk over foolish financial gains.
Donatella listened to everything, only interrupting with questions to clarify.
When I was done, she placed her empty glass on the table. “Whatever you do, make it happen soon,” she advised. “You might have eliminated the underboss, but any one of your grandfather’s captains could rise up and make a power play.”
I shook my head. “They’re too lazy.”
“No, Nico, you’re underestimating their greed.” She pointed a finger at me. “If you can see the shaky state of things, they can too. They might be accustomed to a plush life, they might seem like they don’t care, but mark my words. Any chance for them to make a power play, and they’ll do it.”
Picking at a piece of basil on the tray, I considered her words. “It crossed my mind that they could be acting, putting on a show of indifference.”
She nodded. “I think it’s safe to say that’s a reasonable possibility. Watch your back, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed.
We summoned our waiter, who brought the entrees a few moments later.
Two margherita pizzas, piping hot, were placed in front of us.
I knew better than to slice mine into triangles and eat with my fingers.
My mother might have been born and raised in New York City, but it would be a sin to eat like a barbarian in her presence.
Using a fork and knife, I devoured my food while chatting with her about lighter topics.
The moment her plate was cleared, she sat back, folded her hands over her stomach, and sighed happily.
“Tell me about your girl.”
While we ate, I’d debated bringing up the topic of Rae. It hadn’t been the plan, since I wanted to keep my sweet secret to myself for a while. But since she’d already heard about last night—which I still couldn’t figure out how that’d happened—I knew this question couldn’t be put off.
“You’ve been smiling to yourself this whole time,” my mother added. “She must be spectacular.”
“You already know she is,” I said dryly, refilling our glasses. “I wouldn’t have put a public claim on anyone else.”
The grin that spread across my mother’s face was bright. “She makes you happy.”
“Yes.” I didn’t know it was possible. To be this consumed with another human, that even now I wondered what Rae was doing. How she was feeling. When I could see her again.
My mother laughed. “It wasn’t a question, Nico.”
“The answer is still yes.”
“I know it is,” she teased. “Well, when can I meet her?”
Worry trickled down my spine. It was icy cold, and I had to fight back a shiver.
I wasn’t ashamed of Rae. And Donatella Grimaldi would be the last person to consider another based on their position rather than their character.
But it was a risk that my mother had come to Boston to visit me today.
I hated the thought of her coming back, even if it was to meet the woman I was falling head over heels for.
And it wasn’t like Rae and I could skip over to New York right now with everything so volatile.
If I raised any of those objections, my mother would flash her famous stubborn streak and fight me on the issue.
Carefully, I put the answer in other terms. “It’s complicated. I want this relationship to last, and I have my work cut out for me. I need to straighten things out with the famiglia, so I’m keeping things casual for now.”
“By flaunting her in front of them?” My mother snorted. “Please, Nico, I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“She needs to stay a secret,” I insisted. “No one knows who she is.”
“Even your own mama? Impudent boy.” Donatella stuck out her bottom lip again. “But fine, have it your way.”
“You’ll meet her, I promise,” I insisted.
“Well, hurry up and fix this mess. Then she can stand by your side, but….” She tapped her lip. “You’ll have to ask her first if that’s where she wants to be.”
I swallowed hard. “Say a prayer that she accepts that offer.”
“I have a better idea.” My mother gave me a wink and then lifted her hands.
She pulled at the fourth finger on her right hand.
A square-cut solitaire that was at least four carets on a gold band slid over the knuckle.
“You can’t have my wedding band—” she flashed the simple gold ring on the left hand “—but your father gave me this when he asked me to marry him. I think it will serve you better than it does me.”
Shaking my head, I leaned away from her outstretched hand. “I can’t accept that, Mama.”
“You can, and you will.” She forced it into my palm. “It’s not cursed, if that’s what you’re worried about. If anything, it will bring you luck and happiness.”
Her fingers wrapped around mine, closing my palm.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, not trusting myself to speak louder.
“You’re welcome, and now that I’ve helped you solve your problem—” her voice twinkled with mischief “—you’ll set a date for us to meet. And! I’ll drag your sister with me.”
Fear soured my veins. “Tiziana can’t come to Boston! If Grimaldi catches her, he’ll keep her hostage—”
“He’ll have to get through me if he thinks he can marry off his granddaughter without his wrinkly old throat being cut open first,” my mother snapped. “We’re coming, and that’s that.”
Dio mio, what have I done?