Ida tuts as she takes her seat in the armchair opposite. “It could be.”
“Leon will cut your stipend if you keep this up,” I warn her.
“What Leon doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she brushes me off. “How is my son?”
I cringe a little. “As stubborn as ever.”
“Still intent on taking out the Guild?”
I nod and take a sip of water, unwilling to relive our last disastrous conversation.
Mother sighs. “You know, I thought I would be happy for this day to come. After the Vitales murdered my parents, robbing you of your grandparents and my inheritance, I thought of nothing but revenge.”
I put the bottle down. “You don’t talk about it much.”
“I suppose it’s always been quite painful.” She crosses her legs. “Back then, I was barely your age. I’d lived in those casinos all my life. Then, one day, it was all gone. The Vitales took charge of the Prince’s Hand, and I was left with nothing.”
“But you got it back,” I supply, trying to ignore the pang of sympathy that echoes through me. Not for my mother but for Teo,who experienced the same thing in reverse.
Was history always so doomed to repeat itself?
“I did.” She smiles sadly. “Your father was good enough to agree to meet with them to negotiate a peaceful handover. We never expected the ambush or for the Vitales to be so bold as to set fire to their own home with us inside.”
“That was their mistake.”
“No, the mistake was mine.” My mother gives me a long look. “The don and his wife perished that night. But if I had only the foresight to clean up the loose ends, we wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”
It takes a moment for me to realize what she’s implying. “Teo was barely a teenager, Mamma.You can’t blame yourself for not killing him, too.”
“I would have done it. For you,bambina,I would have.”
I swallow thickly, trying so very hard not to think about it. “I’m glad that you didn’t.”
She shakes her head. “Now you are having to deal with my mistakes. Has he approached you again?”
I carefully place my bottle on the side. “He has been…monitoring me.”
“Stalking you?”
“I suppose you could call it that.”
She hums thoughtfully. “And has he found anything of note?”
“His behavior has been erratic, if that’s what you mean,” I supply. At her gentle nod of encouragement, I tell her everything. Everything that happened after the wedding, the meeting at Eleven,the incident at the gym, the poker game, the cartel at the bar.
As I spin my tale, my mother seems to relax more. That knowing smile on her lips broadens with every recollection of our touches, kisses, almost-somethings.
By the time I’m finished, my bottle is empty, and the sun is setting outside the conservatory window.
“Well,bambina,you have been busy,” Ida offers as I recline back into my seat.
“He’s pulled back now, though. I haven’t heard from him in weeks,” I explain, somewhat bitterly.
“What is it again? About how absence makes the heart grow fonder?”
“Mamma.”
She laughs. “I wouldn’t worry. I daresay you already have him wrapped around your finger.”
