“He abducted you, Issy. What was I supposed to do?”
“Let me fucking handle it!”
Leon puts a very firm hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look him in the eye.
“Handle what, exactly? Because I sure as hell didn’t give you permission to wander off into a fucking hornet's nest on my behalf.”
I meet his glare beat for beat. “You don’t give me orders.”
“So this was what? sSome stupid attempt to undermine me?”
“Actually, she got her orders from me.”
We turn in unison to see that someone else has approached the door.
Her slim frame is adorned as always with the very height of fashion. tToday she opted for a dark Chanel dress and matching Louboutins. Her silver hair is styled in a perfect blow-out, the very definition of aging with grace.
I can only hope that such good genes run in the family.
“Mamma,”I greet her with a blown-out breath. “What are you doing in Harlem?”
She greets me with two brief kisses, one on either cheek. When she steps back, there’s a bemused expression on her face. “You smell like sex,bambina.”
I can practically hear Leon stiffening at my side. “I’m going to execute him.”
Without missing a beat, Leon storms back into the room, Every man at that table sitting straighter in their chair at the sight of his rampage.
“We attack tomorrow at dawn, starting at the fucking Candelabraand systematically burning down every property in the Guild’s portfolio,” he announces.
I share a look with my mother before we both follow him inside. To my dismay, this doesn’t seem to be an empty threat. Leon has the plan projected onto the back wall and the map of New York and Brooklyn in the middle of the table is riddled with marks.
“You’ve got to be joking,” I comment aloud, earning me a few wary glances from around the table. At least the men have enough respect– or fear– not to comment on the state of my attire.
“Vitale started this.” Leon points at me angrily. “I’m going to fucking finish it.”
“Jesus, Leon. This isn’t a schoolyard. You can’t just start a war with the Guild because you feel slighted.”
His eyes bulge at me. “Slighted? Vitale declared war on this family the second he decided to abduct you. He flaunted you,Issy. You think I can just stand by while he disrespects me like that?”
“I got away, didn’t I?” I fold my hands over my chest. “Which tells you what?”
“That he’s a fucking fool!”
I roll my eyes. “Now you get it. Teo Vitale is not a threat to you. He talks the talk but has no follow-through. Plus, he has the inflated ego of someone who’s been coddled by the Morettis his entire life. Starting a war would just be a waste of resources.”
“How did you escape?”
This question comes from my mother, now casually leaning against the wall near the door.
I turn to her with a knowing look. “He was very easy to distract.”
We’ve always been able to communicate like this, small looks that share what we’re both feeling. I suppose it comes from years of being under her near-constant tutelage, hoping to shape me into her own little protégé.
I don’t suffer under any delusion that our relationship is, well, different from most mothers and daughters. For one thing, Ida looks quite proud that I was able to do what needed to be done in order to escape.
From what I’ve gathered, most mothers don’t encourage their daughters to use their bodies to get what they want. But we’re not like most families. And I will always be grateful that she trained me to be a weapon in my own right.
Daughters are too often neglected in favor of nurturing the male heir. I like to consider myself quite lucky.
