Chapter 16
FRANCISCO
Iclimb into the backseat of the limo, my mind buzzing. Though I didn’t let on, I instantly recognized Marlena’s family name. The Roccas and the Corellos go way back in the old country. To hear my grandfather tell it, they were two peas in a pod.
I can’t wait to get home and check out the old family archives. There’s a handwritten tree inside that I think will prove illuminating. I wait patiently as my driver takes the freeway, glides through the neighborhood, and up the driveway to my palatial home.
I go straight to the office to find the book in question, and take it back to my desk.
Opening it up, I skip to the back where the real information lies.
There are five mafia families delineated on the back pages.
One is the Corello family. Another is the Rocca family.
There’s some intermarrying between the two way back, which only goes to show how strong the ties were.
I notice that in my father’s generation, there’s one member of the Rocca family with an X through his name. That’s a signal that he was kicked out of the family for some reason. I’m not sure who I can ask to shed some more light on the subject.
There’s no mention of Marlena or her brother, Brandon. I wonder if they’re fruit of the poisoned tree, if the banished Rocca is in fact their grandfather. I pull out my phone and text Giovanni. He’s much better at rooting out information than I am, especially when it comes to family history.
Me: Come into my office.
A moment later, he’s there, waiting expectantly for me to ask for whatever it is I need. I turn the book around so that he can see the handwritten notes, and point to the X.
“I need you to find out everything you can about this man,” I say.
Giovanni takes the book with interest. He doesn’t ask me any questions, assuming rightly that it is none of his business.
Instead, he nods in agreement and leaves with the book.
I sit back in my chair, wondering what to do next.
I have plenty of work I could do, but my head isn’t in the right place.
I can’t lean on anyone right now, or listen to a laundry list of complaints from my capos or soldiers.
This whole situation with the potential mole has me concerned, especially since I’ve just uncovered some important information about Marlena.
I want to keep her safe, and I’m not sure if I can do that.
I don’t know who to trust, and while I hope that those who are closest to me have my best interests at heart, it’s hard not to be suspicious.
I need to clear my head, so I get up and walk around the garden.
My landscapers have done wonders with the roses and the other flower beds.
I take my time, letting the stress melt away.
It’s refreshing to just allow myself to breathe in the fresh air and forget about all the management tasks in front of me.
“Cisco?” Giovanni says, finding me there an hour later. “Are you okay?”
“Sure,” I respond with little interest. “What did you find?”
“Well, this guy betrayed the family. The specifics are a little hard to come by, but it looks like he lost a significant sum of money on an enterprise that was central to the family’s books,” Giovanni explains, showing me the entry in the archives that I’ve already seen.
“So he was a gambler?” I guess, reading between the lines.
“Yeah, and a bad one,” Giovanni confirms. “He was exiled to America, something they used to do if the crime was serious enough.”
“And his children?” I ask.
“Yeah, he had one child, a son,” Giovanni reveals. “Son was a piece of work.”
“Yeah?” I wonder, already knowing how the story ends.
“Hired hitman,” Giovanni answers. “Made quite a name for himself. He was freelance, not attached to any one particular family.”
“And that’s what got him into trouble?” I guess, following the trail of logic to its obvious conclusion.
“From what I can tell, he ran afoul of the Andretti family,” Giovanni says. “Killed one of the high-ranking family members on contract. They never forgave him.”
“So it’s Carlo Andretti who’s after him,” I surmise.
“Not anymore, boss,” Giovanni corrects me. “Vincent Rocca is dead. Real nasty piece of work, too. Closed casket and everything.”
“I know,” I mutter.
“What’s with all this interest?” Giovanni wonders. “Did Rocca do something to the family?”
“No,” I say. “Thank you. That will be all.”
“Okay,” Giovanni responds, clearly expecting me to fill in some of the gaps.
But I’m not ready to reveal Marlena’s secret.
I wonder if she knows what her father was into.
She said she hated him, and that she had left home as soon as possible.
But it’s a far leap from an unhappy teenager to someone aware that her father is a contract killer.
My own childhood wasn’t the best, but I had a much better relationship with my father than Marlena seems to have had. I wasn’t so eager to leave home. In fact, I followed right in my old man’s footsteps.
But it seems like Marlena has a whole lot more to worry about.
Now that I know who she is, and what she has to fear, I’m worried.
She’s been careful about covering her tracks, changing her name and getting a new home, but she hasn’t moved far enough away.
I would have thought that with her experience, she would have moved across the country, or even to a different country altogether.
But she stayed in the same city with the man who is quite possibly responsible for murdering her father.
That’s either optimism or foolishness, and I want to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Still, I doubt she’s safe. If I found out, it’s only a matter of time until Andretti does.
Killing a high-ranking member of the family is not something you let go, and it’s excuse enough to wipe out a whole family.
Her coming here to teach my son is the icing on the cake.
I don’t like Andretti, and he doesn’t like me.
Give him the type of opportunity where he can kill two birds with one stone and he’ll take it in an instant, especially as it seems he’s actively trying to gather information on me.
Killing Marlena would avenge his fallen comrade, and it would hurt me in turn. I can’t let that happen. She’s my responsibility whether or not she knows now that she’s agreed to stay. I won’t let her out of my sight.
“I want you to send a car to pick up Marlena,” I tell Giovanni.
He studies me carefully, and I can see him putting two and two together. First, I’ve asked about this dead Rocca character, and now I’m reaching out to Frankie’s tutor. Giovanni doesn’t have all the answers, but I know he’s got a pretty good idea of what’s going on.
“Sure, boss,” he says easily.
“Bring her here, and make up one of the guestrooms for her,” I continue. “She’s coming to stay for a while.”
“What should I say if she refuses?” Giovanni asks.
“She won’t refuse,” I assure him. “She knows what’s at stake.”
“You think Marlena is related to this Rocca guy?” Giovanni wonders.
“I don’t think,” I tell him. “I know.”
“If Carlo finds out…” Giovanni whispers, shaking his head.
“That’s why you’re gonna go pick her up right now,” I explain. “And I don’t want you to tell her that you know. Just tell her that we’re going to protect her and leave it at that.”
“Right,” Giovanni agrees, moving away to complete his task. He pauses at the edge of the driveway and turns back. “You know, if you married her, then Andretti would risk an all-out war if he made a move.”
“Yeah,” I scoff, immediately dismissing the idea of matrimony as absurd.
Though we shared that kiss, and I was fairly sure our attraction was mutual, it could never work out.
There’s too much of an age gap, and it wouldn’t be fair to her to ask her to be my bride.
She’s young and vibrant, and I’m a man who’s seen too much in his lifetime.
I can’t be the kind of companion she deserves, so the idea is ridiculous.
But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if it might possibly work. From a purely practical standpoint, Giovanni is right. Carlo Andretti would never dream of making a move against my wife. My son’s tutor, living in my house, could still be a potential target. But my wife? He wouldn’t dare.
I watch Giovanni circle the house, and a moment later, I hear a car engine. I gaze around my expansive yard, feeling more satisfied than I have in a while. I don’t have to wander the grounds aimlessly anymore. Marlena is coming to stay, and that’s more than enough reason to celebrate.
I decide to pass the word to my staff personally. I want her every whim to be taken care of. I don’t want her to desire anything when she’s here. The room should be made up perfectly, with the pillows fluffed and the woodwork dusted.
There’s going to be new blood in our home, and I want the place to shine.