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“Ivy the Belladonna Callahan,” I whispered to myself and then smiled, nodding happily.
The Belladonna and the Mani di forbice.
The beautiful poison and the duel blades.
ETHAN
“She’s real special that one, isn’t she?” he asked me as I swept around his chair. Pausing, I glanced as she and Gabby went over her homework. She sat in my chair spinning slowly, flipping through old photo albums, while Gabby wrote down whatever it was she said. She looked far too happy just seeing pictures, but then again Ivy was a person who loved the little things.
“She is,” I finally replied, but changed the topic to more serious matters. “Do you all have everything you need?”
He grabbed his Birch Leaf tea and sat in his chair, relaxing. “No. But what I need isn’t something you give. The rest of the family is good. I’ve heard Dona has made an impression with people in Chicago.”
“She is my mother’s daughter.” I knew she would, which is why I left her to it.
He nodded sipping, but cringed at the taste, his face bunching up even more. “I just remembered I hate tea.”
“But you hate the pain more,” I reminded him, sweeping under his feet.
“I do.” He sighed heavily before taking another bitter sip, cringing once more. “Porca miseria…” he cursed under his breath before reaching into his jacket and pulling out a flask. He checked over his shoulder before he poured it in and shoved it back into his hidden pocket.
“I’m sure your doctor would be pleased,” I said sarcastically, bending down to sweep up the hair.
“Screw him and cancer,” he muttered to himself, drinking.
Emptying the dust bin into the trash can by his table, I placed the broom by the wall and leaned against his work station, thinking of how to phrase what I needed to say to him.
“Just come out with it.” He waved at me, proving just how well he knew me at this point. “I’m guessing this has got something to do with the chaos happening in the city?”
I nodded. “I’m going to need something from you.”
“What can an old dying man give you?” He snickered, drinking.
“Your life.”
He coughed into his cup, shocked, and due to this condition once he started he couldn’t stop, causing the tea to spill a little.
“Grandpa?” Gabby looked at him, but he waved her off. Taking the cup from him, I handed him a napkin.
Taking it, he wiped the corners of his mouth and looked up at me. “Seeing as how I’ve always been loyal to you and your mother, I’m guessing when you say my life—”
“I need you to die,” I said clearly. “I want many things, Giovanni, and the path to get it starts in blood.”
“And so why not mine.” He rested his elbow on the armrest. “At least you’re polite enough to ask first…or do you have a backup?”
“I trust in your loyalty.”
“You trust no one.” He chuckled and nodded to where Ivy was sitting but not looking at her. “Does she know your plan?”
I didn’t answer because it was none of his business.
“Exactly. We should have called you il burattinaio.”
“We don’t pick our names.” Besides, the only way to be a puppet master, as he put it, was to make sure no one realized you were pulling the strings to begin with.
“Have you set the day you’re going to kill me then?” he asked, glancing up at his shop.
