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“How is Dom?” Ma asks, and I swallow my first mouthful of food, not really tasting it because I’m not even hungry. They don’t even know the half of it yet or about Allegra, our cousin, and what happened when the shit hit the fan tonight. That’s why we need to wait for Angelo.
Dom is Angelo’s bodyguard and is in the hospital recovering from being shot.
“He’s gonna be okay,” I say. The least they know, the better. “Angelo will debrief everyone soon.”
Currently, he’s upstairs with Rayne and Mia, getting them reacquainted.
I know my Ma and sister will be shocked over this news, and we can only keep it from them for so long.
“Where is Angelo?” Ma asks, slapping Valentina’s hand away from pinching a meatball from the large bowl of spaghetti in the middle of the table. “Manners, Valentina.”
“He’ll be down shortly, but he has to go see Mario,” I reply.
“Mario? Tonight?” Ma crosses her chest to Jesus. “Is everything all right with him?”
I suddenly feel drained. It’s no secret that Uncle Mario isn’t well and hasn’t been for some time. I don’t know if Angelo is in denial or if he knows something that I don’t, but he’s taking it all in his stride.
As his second in command and closest companion, aside from Enzo, I make it my business to know everything.
“I told him to eat before he left,” Ma tuts.
Poor Ma. She thinks feeding you meatballs loaded with cheese will fix any problem you have. Pity, it can’t bring people back from the dead or solve your romantic issues.
Not that I have anything serious going on at the moment.
Valentina sits opposite me, giving me a glare that says she knows more than she’s letting on. It’s typical of her to have her nose poking in where it’s not wanted. I know she doesn’t like being here at the Fortress, but lockdowns are to protect those closest to the family for a reason. So she can sulk all she wants. We don’t involve her in the dark side of the business.
More often than not, the monsters in this city hide in plain sight.
Before I can address her haughty look, Ma plonks a bowl in front of me and says, “Take this to the girl, Marco.”
“Ma…”
“Don’t Ma me,” she says, pointing in my face.
I don’t want to sound like a whiny bitch, but can’t someone else do it?
“What’s the matter?” Valentina teases. “You’re not afraid of one little girl, are you?”
One thing Katiya isn’t is little nor is she a girl. She has legs that go up to my neck, and that isn’t something I should be noticing from a woman who is not only our enemy but, more importantly, just got rescued from being tied up and probably tortured.
“How come Valentina never gets slapped upside the head?” I say to Ma when Valentina pokes her tongue out at me. “Very mature,” I add under my breath.
“Valentina, don’t goad your brother,” Ma says, hovering over the stove.
Though dinner is cooked and ready, she will never sit down and enjoy it. She’s probably about to make souffles or something else to pass the time until Angelo arrives.
This is her way of coping.
“I’m not. He’s just naturally charged with malice.”
Ma shakes her head while I flip Valentina the bird.
I don’t argue with Ma. Instead, I take a large swig of my red wine and reluctantly leave the table, taking the bowl in my hands as I curse under my breath as I head to her room.
So now I’m some damn fucking housemaid. I make men quake at the knees by day, yet one word from my tiny, Sicilian mother and I’m following orders like a whipped little bitch.
Unbelievable.
