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“I don’t kill women or children. Ever.”
“What if they ordered you to?” she asked.
They meaning Dario and his brothers.
“They wouldn’t.”
“That’s a first,” she muttered. “Mafiosos not willing to kill someone.”
I thought about Dario – all the kindnesses he had done me, all the times he had offered to help me, all his plans to build a better world than the one he had inherited from his father.
I especially remembered what he had told me in the hallway – the part about being my friend and how I could always speak my mind.
“They’re different than you think,” I said.
“How so?”
“You should ask Niccolo or Dario. It’s not my place to talk about the family’s business. But let’s just say that they aren’t your ordinary, everyday mafiosos,” I said, making fun of her term for them.
“Hm,” she said absentmindedly. Then she hit me with a barrage of questions. “Are you Swedish?”
“I am.”
“Niccolo said you saved Dario’s life twice in prison.”
I thought about saying, Probably more than that, but knew I could just as easily say, He saved MY life, too.
In the end, I simply agreed.
“I did.”
“And that’s why they trust you?”
“It is.”
“Were you in the military, too? In Sweden?”
“I was.”
“That’s why you’re such a good shot?”
“Partly.”
“You’re talkative, aren’t you?”
I grinned. “I would talk more, Alessandra, if I knew my secrets were safe with you.”
“What secrets?”
“Who I am. What I’ve done. Who I work for.”
“I already know those things.”
I almost laughed. DO you now.
“And I see no need for you to know more,” I replied.
“Then why bring me here?”
