Chapter 15
COSIMO
Somehow, in the span of just over a week, my engagement had gone from being my number one problem to being the only thing that was going well.
Fabiana had managed to make all the necessary changes with the planner, just like I knew she would. Why the hell did she doubt herself? Her insecurities were hard for me to understand, and for some reason, it irritated me that she appeared to have no idea how absurd they were.
In any case, the updated invitations had gone out this morning. By late afternoon, Mother walked through my office door.
“You’ve moved up the wedding,” she snapped, by way of greeting. “What a turnaround.”
Behind her, my secretary stood wringing her hands in the doorway, wearing an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry, Mr. Ferraro. I tried to tell her you’re busy.”
My mother rounded on her. “Busy? I’m his mother. I don’t need your permission to come talk to him.”
I smirked. It was more than a little satisfying to see her so annoyed. Her mask was slipping, even though she had a good enough excuse. She could hide behind her grief for now, but if she wanted to have a chance at winning the vote, she would have to start making moves soon.
A recent widow vying for her husband’s old throne? When the eldest son had just secured a historical alliance and was parading his mafia-royalty bride around for everyone to see?
Yeah. She was going to have a hard time walking that tightrope.
I nodded at the secretary. “It’s all right.” And it was, because it was likely the last time I’d have to see my mother here again.
When Dad was alive, I had to tolerate my mother coming and going whenever she pleased, as if she had a God-given right to stick her nose in my business.
But that was about to change. The second she left the building today, I was going to make sure every person who worked for me understood that Vita Ferraro did not cross my threshold unless I expressly instructed them to allow it.
The secretary walked back out and closed the door behind her.
“So you received the updated invitation,” I drawled. “I hope you can make it.”
Wrath shone in her eyes. The same gray eyes that had looked on in smug satisfaction as I’d writhed in pain on the floor of her office when I’d been too small to defend myself.
“I’m glad to see you embracing your duty at last, Cosimo. Shame it took your father’s death to finally get you there.”
My fingers tapped against the folder on my desk. It was filled with stills from the cemetery footage.
We were going to find that biker. My gut told me he was connected to the Santoros. Maybe he was even one of them. After all, it wasn’t unusual for a murderer to show up at their victim’s grave.
I’d already tasked Romolo with tracking him down, and I had a strong suspicion that if we pulled on that thread hard enough, the mystery behind the family who’d killed my father would begin to unravel.
And with it, so would my mother’s plan. There’d be nothing she could do to convince the capos to vote for her if I was the one who found the killer.
“Now that I have embraced my duty, I assume you’re here to tell me you’ve decided to drop your ridiculous bid for succession?”
She let out a condescending laugh. “Why would I?” She tilted her head.
“Saying I do is the easiest part of marriage, Cosimo. Then comes the hard part of actually being married. If you think people around you won’t notice that you can barely tolerate your wife, then you significantly overestimate your acting abilities.
And once they see how unstable your marriage is, the stability of the alliance with the Messeros will come into question. ”
Barely tolerate Fabiana? She must have been so busy working the room at the funeral that she hadn’t noticed the way I hadn’t left my fiancée’s side. It had started as a performance by the gravesite. But by the time we made it to the reception, it had transformed into something else.
I found Nettle’s presence strangely grounding. And while I’d bristled when she called me out for not knowing how to comfort people, I’d been grudgingly impressed by how easily she did it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My fiancée and I are getting along just fine.”
She scoffed. “Oh please. I know the kind of women you go for, Cosimo. Bold, self-assured, outspoken. You sometimes forget that I know you better than you know yourself.”
Amusement tugged on my mouth. I’d already suspected that Mother had picked Fabiana in response to seeing me with Rosa, and this all but confirmed it. She thought Rosa was the kind of woman I preferred. But she had no idea that our relationship wasn’t real.
“You are uniquely gifted at rewriting reality, I’ll give you that, Mother.”
Her mouth tightened. She bought into her own bullshit. That had always been her weakness.
“What I’m proposing wouldn’t be forever,” she said. “Just a few years while you prove to me that you’re worthy of the role.”
“The thing is, I don’t need to prove anything to you.
You don’t get a vote. Only the capos vote.
So if there’s anyone I need to impress, it’s them.
” I leaned back in my chair. “And you’ll need to do the same if you want a chance at winning them over.
If you truly know more about the Santoros than you’re letting on, I suggest you put that knowledge to good use and bring us something valuable. Something that helps us catch them.”
I was baiting her. I wanted to see if her claim to know more about the Santoros had any truth to it, or if it was just another one of her mind games.
But she didn’t bite. She only gave me a cold smile and said, “Maybe your attitude about becoming don will change the way it did about your marriage. I’ll see you at the wedding.”
I watched her walk out and shook my head.
She knew as well as I did there would be no changing my mind. But she wasn’t going to give up that easily.
Vita was already planning her countermove.
Whatever it was, I’d be ready.