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“She’s having some trouble with her family.”
He nods slowly. “I thought that might be the case when her father referred to her as hisformerdaughter.”
“Next time you talk to him, tell him to go fuck himself.”
“That’ll be great for the alliance.”
“Right now, I can’t say I much give a shit about that.”
Renzo scrubs a hand through his hair. “I understand things are difficult, but you made this choice.”
“I told you it was a stupid one too,” Carlo calls out.
“Do you need to be here?” I ask him, glaring.
“Nope, but it’s fun.”
I turn around and go back to ignoring him. “I need to figure out a way to fix that relationship.”
“Between Allegra and her father?” Renzo looks thoughtful. “He feels as though she betrayed him.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“If you and she did something for the Rinaldo Famiglia to prove that you’re still loyal—” Renzo shrugs and gestures in the air. “I don’t know what. But something big. That might help.”
“See, bro?” Carlo speaks up again. “That’s why Renzo’s the Don.”
I rub my temples. “It’s not a bad idea, but what?”
“We’re at war. You’ll figure it out.” Renzo raps a knuckle on his desk, looking pleased with himself. Which is annoying, but I’ll admit he had some good advice.
A grand gesture. Or at least a gesture of good faith. If we can make her father understand that we didn’t get married to make him look like a fool then maybe he can begin to forgive her.
And if not, maybe I can get him to lift her stupid ex-communication at the very least. It’s cruel and worthless, and the old fuck should be ashamed of himself. That’s the thing with mafia guys though—give them a bit of power, and there goes any shred of human decency. I only hope that doesn’t happen to Renzo.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I get up and nod to Renzo. I point at Carlo as I walk out. “You’re with me.”
“Uh-oh. Am I about to get a scolding?”
“Shut up, dickhead. I want to talk.”
Carlo follows me out into the hall. He’s still drinking, which isn’t a surprise. The guy’s always got a whiskey to hand when he’s in this house.
Not that I can blame him. “How’s Mom holding up?” I ask softly once we’re alone.
He shrugs, avoiding eye contact. “Not too bad. Better since Maddie came around.”
“You spend much time with her?”
“More than I used to.” He clears his throat. “It’s been hard, but Maddie really is good with her.”
I nod and blow out a long breath. Mom’s disease has been really hard on everyone, but it hit Carlo particularly hard. He and Mom were close back in the day—for some reason they just always clicked. She liked his cheeky, goofy attitude, and he loved that she doted on him. We were never jealous, not exactly. It was always understood that they just had a special relationship. They drifted apart as he got older like most parents and their kids do, but I think it really hurt him when she started to get sick and couldn’t remember him anymore. It was like everything they had together, all their memories, all those special moments, all of it was gone.
“I’m going to go sit with her. Want to come?”
“You go alone. It’s hard for her when there are too many people around. I think she starts to realize she can’t remember everyone even though she should.”
“Yeah, alright.” I clench my jaw. “Sometimes I feel like a piece of shit for not coming more.”
