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The younger Capizzi let out a laugh, although there was no humour ringing out of it. “I don’t know how you stand her.”
“Mistakes. You’re lucky if you can learn and move forward. But some are there every day to remind you … of a moment … of weakness.” Damn. The old man looked like he might die right now, right before her eyes. He might have been a hottie once to father such sons, but now he was all shallow skin and bones sticking out.
Hot Capizzi leaned over and grabbed the old man’s hands. “Let me take care of this, Papà.”
Her eyes stuck on his wristwatch. He didn’t wear the normal sparkling stuff. It had a brown leather strap and a black face. It looked expensive.
Concentrate, Florina. If you go about this right, you can nab way more than a wristwatch.
“No. This is my life, and I will take my mistakes to the grave. You and Angelo need to learn from it. Besides, I didn’t come here to discuss your mother.”
Ha! Florina could see even from this distance that the son didn’t agree with the father. There was a tick going mad at his jaw, but he kept silent, even though his eyes were wild and ready to commit murder. A cold thrill ran up her body. She suddenly understood why Peppe was petrified of him.
“What did you want to discuss, Papà?”
The old man didn’t seem to notice his son’s violent look. “Carlo has called in a favour.”
Shit.
Florina shifted on her toes. She hoped he was not talking about Carlo Di Matteo, the boss of The Mafia.
Please don’t. Please don’t.
“What favour is the don calling in from a dying man?”
Shit.
She was dead. If they found her now, they would kill her. She clenched her hands tightly on her rumbling stomach.
“His cousin in Boston is having some problems. They are trying to work together with the Russian mob, but it’s not working out. They need someone—”
“I don’t like this direction, Papà.”
“Ascoltami, figlio mio.” Old Man Capizzi wheeled his chair away. “Boston PD is down their throats. He is looking to turn his organisation legal. They want to embed more honour in their codes. Carlo has spoken to him about our family. Your grandfather's work. Mine. Your ambitions.”
“But I—”
“Let me speak. I am trying to spare my breath.”
Florina sniggered from her vantage point of view. The man was old but still good at manipulating his son. The younger Capizzi fell instantly silent and obedient. It was obvious the son would do what the father asked.
“This is what you have wanted. More diplomacy. Fewer weapons. This is what your grandfather and I have worked for. You will continue that. You have made a name here. Your diplomacy is highly valued. In Boston, apparently, they want to work with the other mobs, and they need someone who will be good at negotiating deals, including with us here. If Carlo is asking this of you, it means he trusts you and your capacity.”
The old man paused to catch his breath before continuing. “I have already discussed this with him. You are to still manage your private banking business. In fact, this is what they want. More legal businesses. You will be perfect for their organisation.”
No. No. If he moves to America, who am I to seduce?
The old man wheeled his chair closer to his son and took his hand in his. His hands were more a packet of bones than flesh. “This will be good for you. Go to Boston. When you are done, you can come back home. Take Angelo with you. A break from all this drama from your mother. Create some distance.”
She could go with them to America. She would just have to hurry with her plans ….
“Papà—” He put his fancy drink down.
“I have little time left. It is what it is. Make no mistake figlio mio. I want you to take care of your mother. But never at the expense of your own happiness. Don’t follow in my footsteps. Don’t allow culture to dictate who you should marry. I don’t care about what our culture dictates. I want you to find love.”
“Love is for fucking idiots.”
Old Capizzi laughed. “One day, you are going to find a woman who’s going to love that foul mouth of yours. I’ve seen it. Love is—”
