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“Is her father important or something? Michael Antonelli?”
Vincent gaped at him. “I don’t recall telling you Michael was her father.”
He shrugged. “Haven may have mentioned it.”
“I’m surprised,” he said. “He didn’t claim her, so not many people know that information. His own wife only just recently found out. She wasn’t very happy.”
Carmine laughed dryly. “Haven mentioned that, too.”
Vincent raised his eyebrows. “Have you told her you know them?”
Carmine stared at his father. “I don’t.”
“You do,” Vincent insisted. “Or, well, you know Katrina’s brother. We’re related to him.”
Silence permeated the office. It took a minute for that to click with Carmine. “Katrina Moretti? Are you telling me the bitch who tortured Haven is Corrado’s sister?”
“Yes.”
“That motherfucker! Does he know what they were doing?”
“Possibly, but none of that matters right now,” Vincent said. “Squint has his eyes set on the girl, so she needs to be watched for that reason.”
It didn’t make sense to Carmine, but he knew his father wasn’t going to tell him anything more.
* * *
“Just relax,” Carmine said softly, pulling out a chair for Haven as they made their way to the table for dinner that night. He took the seat beside her, and Haven remained still as they bowed their heads for a prayer. They helped themselves to food but Haven only took a little, too anxious to eat. She scooted the food around on her plate with her fork, alarmed, as she tried to ignore Nunzio’s gawking from across the table.
“So, Carmine,” Salvatore said, attempting conversation. “You’ll be eighteen in a few months. Any plans for the future?”
Haven peered at him, curious. She, too, wondered what his plans were, but Carmine merely shrugged, offering no answer.
Dr. DeMarco cleared his throat. “Carmine can do what he wants with his life, but I like to think he’ll hang around here until he graduates.”
Nunzio laughed mockingly. “School’s useless. What’s a diploma gonna get you these days—a job at McDonald’s? There’s money to be made out there, and no piece of paper from some school will matter a bit when it comes to it.”
Dr. DeMarco spoke up again, his voice sharp. “A diploma may not matter in our line of work, but it’s not about a piece of paper. It’s about finishing what you started, being dedicated and not selling out. Nothing is worse than an opportunist.”
“I wouldn’t call it being an opportunist,” Nunzio said. “It’s wising up and changing priorities.”
“Your priorities shouldn’t change when you’re on a path you swore you’d stay on,” Vincent said. “Carmine’s mother would want him to see it through.”
Nunzio shrugged. “But Maura’s not here anymore, so why does it matter what she’d want?”
Dr. DeMarco jumped to his feet, his chair crashing to the floor. “Don’t even say her name, scarafaggio! You never disregard your family!”
Haven tensed, her heart feverishly pounding and making her dizzy. Salvatore grabbed Dr. DeMarco’s arm and forced him to sit down. They went back to eating without another word, strained silence overtaking the room.
“So, Haven . . .”
Her name spoken in the high-pitched voice made the fork slip from her fingers. It clanged against her plate, and she winced at the sound. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Salvatore. She wanted nothing more than to blend into the background, wishing she could be overlooked.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” Salvatore said. “I’m just curious how you’re finding life with Vincent. As hidden away as you were, I wondered if you were a figment of the imagination.”
“The DeMarcos are kind to me, sir,” she said quietly. “They treat me fairly.”
Salvatore nodded. “That’s great to hear. If I had known the Antonellis acted so cruelly, I would’ve stepped in. By the time Vincent informed me, it was too complicated to intervene.”
