Chapter 29
COSIMO
“It’s possible she’ll show up, but it’s getting late. Most of the other guests have already checked in,” Rosa said on the other end of the line.
The plan Rosa and I had come up with had sounded good in theory, but it seemed more and more like Rena Santoro was going to be a no-show, and I was starting to realize the plan had only felt solid because I was desperate.
Desperation looked ugly on a don.
I stood near the vase Rena had donated, increasingly certain tonight was going to end up being a very expensive waste of time.
“Text me if anything changes,” I said, gripping my phone tighter.
“I’m sorry, Cosimo.”
Frustration pulsed at my temples as I slid the phone back into my jacket and tried to pretend that everything was fine.
I was good at that. A large part of my job as underboss was just that—convincing the men who worked for me that everything was fine.
That they’d get made, paid, and taken care of, no matter who it was that wanted to kill us at any given point.
And yet something foreign and uneasy rattled through my lungs as I tried to take a deep breath.
The swearing-in ceremony was less than a month away.
Vita was making inroads with the capos, slowly swaying their allegiances to her, and all I had was a collection of dead ends and a strategic marriage that was becoming a distraction.
Becoming?
Who was I kidding. Fabiana had been a goddamn distraction since I met her. As much as I would’ve liked to blame her for it, there was no one to blame but me.
I knew it was dangerous to bring Fabiana into my life. I knew it, and yet I thought I could handle it.
I wasn’t so sure anymore.
Less than two weeks into our marriage, and I’d already told her a secret no one was supposed to know, given her permission to fucking redecorate my house, and made what had to be the dumbest financial decision in my entire life on her behalf.
And worst of all? I didn’t regret any of it. Not even the dress.
Seeing her in it was worth every penny.
In short, this marriage was exactly what I’d feared. She was messing with my goddamn head. And my resolve to resist her was slipping with each passing day.
I glared at the vase in the glass case in front of me as if it were to blame for all my problems. It was bulbous and slightly misshapen and had abstract decorations painted on the side.
It didn’t seem to be a popular lot here tonight.
People passed by me, their faces flashing as they glanced around, but few stopped to look at the vase in detail.
What was so special about it? Why did Rena Santoro buy it in the first place?
I had no answers. And if Rena didn’t show up, I’d be back to square one.
“Your father had his doubts.” My mother’s voice rang in my ears.
Did he? Initially, I’d dismissed everything Vita said to me that day, but now, uncertainty dug in its poisoned claws.
Dad had never protected me and my brothers from her. He saw the lengths she was willing to go to in order to mold us into her weapons. He knew her capacity for cruelty. Had he really thought someone like her could make a good don? Better than me?
Sweat beaded over the back of my neck.
What if that last page of the will hadn’t been stolen after all? What if it was missing because Dad was still deciding what name he wanted to write there?
“Have you completely lost it?”
I turned around to find Nettle looking irate. She stepped up to me and poked me in the chest. “A million dollars?!”
I gritted my teeth. “Who told you?”
“The staff here are gossips. Everyone is staring at me like I’m an animal in the zoo.”
Great. Fucking great. Within days, everyone in the city would know how insane this woman drove me. “They would’ve stared at you regardless. At least now it’s because of a dress that’s still fucking on you.”
The fire in her eyes flared brighter. She grabbed me by the hand and pulled me behind the glass display case. “You’re going to let me pay you back.”
“Don’t insult me like that.”
“I’m not insulting you, Cosimo. But this is absurd.”
“This is not a good time, Fabiana.”
“It’s too much. It’s unreasonable.”
“Yeah, well, reason often seems to leave the room at the exact same moment you enter,” I ground out.
She went still.
I’d said too much.
I pulled my hand out of hers and looked away.
“Cosimo…” I heard her sigh. “I honestly don’t know what to say.”
“Great. Let’s wrap this conversation up. I’m in the middle of something.”
“Don’t do that.”
Reluctantly, I cast my gaze her way. Christ, she looked like a goddamn wet dream in that gown. “What?”
Her expression softened. “Don’t pretend you don’t care and then act like you do. It’s confusing.”
I rolled my shoulders, pulling the damp back of my collar away from my neck. “You’re only in this position because you took a chance on my idiot cousin. I’m not going to let my wife suffer the consequences of his incompetence. That’s it. As simple as that.”
“Simple,” she said flatly. “Right.”
A muscle ticked in my jaw.
She stepped closer and placed her hands on my chest. “Must’ve been agony for you, though. That much money spent on something so frivolous.”
“Wasn’t as bad as you might imagine,” I muttered, distracted by the feel of her palms.
“You sure? You look stressed.” She lifted her fingers to my temple. “You’re sweaty. Is it just hitting you now?”
“I’m not stressed because of the goddamn dress. It’s something else, all right?”
“What is it?” A line appeared between her brows.
My real motivation for being here tonight was firmly in the she-doesn’t-need-to-know territory. I’d gain nothing from sharing the information with her.
But what would I lose?
Fuck it.
“I was here to chase down a Santoro lead. It turned out to be another dead end.”
She frowned. “What kind of a lead?”
“Rena Santoro was supposed to be here tonight. She donated an item. But she never showed up.”
Curiosity sparked in Fabi’s eyes. “What did she donate? Do you know?”
“This vase.” I pointed behind her.
Her brows rose. “Oh? I thought it looked interesting.”
She pushed away from me and tutted at the vase. “I didn’t expect to see this type of ceramic here. This looks like it was made in—” She skimmed her index finger over the plaque beside it. “Grottaglie.”
“You know the place?”
“I’ve visited once. Solo trip, if you don’t count the bodyguards Rafe insisted I take.
It’s a small town in southern Italy where they make lots of ceramics.
This vase is interesting because the items they sell are usually relatively inexpensive.
So the fact that the starting bid is twenty thousand dollars is unusual. ”
A museum attendant who stood nearby overheard her.
“You’re exactly right. This piece is special because of the workshop it comes from.
Emilio Quaranta. It was only in operation for five years before a fire broke out that killed Quaranta and destroyed the factory.
He’s known for producing some of the finest pieces in the town’s history. ”
“So they’re rare. Well, that explains the price.” She walked around the vase, assessing it from every angle. “Beautiful. Do you have the provenance details available for this piece?”
The man looked down at his iPad. “The donor’s anonymous, but we do have some information in the notes here.
They have one of the biggest collections of Quaranta’s pieces in the world.
This piece was acquired by the donor from a local collector in Grottaglie about five years ago.
The name of the collector isn’t specified. ”
“Five years ago?” Fabiana muttered to herself. “Okay, thank you.”
“What?” I asked as she pulled me aside.
“Whoever sold this piece to the Santoros might be able to help you. Five years is a long time, but a sale like this would be remembered, especially if the donor is known in Grottaglie as a big buyer.”
“You think the people in this town might be able to help us find them?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea, but I think it’s possible.”
I stared at her, stunned. It was a lead. A name. A place.
“Cosimo? You okay?”
I was already pulling out my phone. “We’re done here tonight. I need to make a call. Meet me at the entrance in five.”