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“Yeah. She knew who I was. Said I looked like my father.” I blush, remembering the exchange. “Said I wasn’t cut out for it. Then some man, her husband, Sal, he came, thought I was . . . I don’t know. Some girl looking to hook up with a dangerous man, get a thrill. Told me I was cute but that I wasn’t cut out for the life. Acted like he knew me, knew my type.”
Finally, Marco undoes the lock, shaking his head. “Fucking asshole. What happened?”
I smile, remembering my words that day.
“I got his name. Told him I wanted to make sure I could see his face when I was in charge in a few months.”
Marco’s laugh booms as we enter the building, and I feel a small, infinitesimal sense of pride as it does.
“God, I can’t wait until that jackass figures out who he was talking to.” We walk past the desk and I look to it, remembering the moment and the way it was fuel to my fire.
How it led me to Dante, in a way.
“She’s jealous of you,” Marco says, leading me back to the sample rooms.
“Who?”
“Roz. Wanted your father. She’s always been around, her family not in the family but always sitting on the outskirts. I think she cooked up some fairy tale in her mind that Arturo was hers since they knew each other as kids. But then your mother came along . . .” His voice trails off, and I can’t help but smile.
“And then my mother came along.” I look at carpet samples and paint swatches. “So, what, she said all of that to me because she’s jealous she didn’t get my father?”
Marco sighs and shrugs.
“You didn’t hear this from me, Lilah,” he says, tipping his ever-present sunglasses down his nose to look at me as we stop walking in the middle of a fake kitchen. I nod and give him the sign of the cross and he smiles.
“She thinks if the position stays empty, if there’s no one to take over when Alfredo passes, that Sal will be Don.”
“Sal, her husband, Sal?”
“One in the same.” I nod, slowly understanding.
“And . . . would he?”
“Who knows what would happen if you don’t step in. Maybe. Men aren’t crazy loyal to him, but they aren’t any more loyal to some other Capo. Who knows how the chips would fall.”
“But it doesn’t matter anymore because I’m going to take over,” I say, straightening my shoulders and knowing that’s the truth. Even if I’ve never met these people, even if they all hate me from the start, if I have to crawl from the bottom to win their approval, I will.
I’m meant to rule this family.
And just like I’ll win over every last Carluccio until they’re loyal to me, I’ll win over the Russos too.
SEVEN
-Dante-
Looking around, I wonder if this is how Lilah felt when she threw her own tantrum in this very office.
Not better, but the edge is gone.
The red anger that I felt when she sent me a text to tell me she was going with my second—no,her second, I think—to meet with my enemies has dimmed just a bit.
Enough for me to breathe, at least.
Not her enemies,I remind myself.She’s a Russo herself.
Any loose paper that was on my desk is now littered on the floor, a mix of random mail and important papers I absolutely need to keep.
The pens that were sitting in a fucking stupid fancy pen cup Lilah ordered off of some office supply website are everywhere, a Montblanc fully embedded in the wall.
