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“What do you mean?” Mom is saying. “You did it? I thought the cops shot him.”
Dad looks back at her. “I told the cops where to be.”
“You had a made man shot?”
“I thought it would make him stand up and pay attention to us.”
“You’re a joke,” she replies. “You reach out to Don Casella and when he refuses to loan you money, you kill one of his made men? Are you insane, Roberto?”
He stops, looking like a broken man. For a moment I feel sorry for him. Then I remember why I’m standing where I am.
“We’re broke,” he says. “You spend money like it’s water and I’m trying to keep us afloat but we’re drowning. I had to do something.”
“Whose fault is it that we’re broke? You saying it’s my fault? My mother was right. I never should have married you.”
“Too late for that now, darling.” The venom drips from his final word so strongly I can almost see it.
“You should kill Don Casella, take his money. That would put us back on top.”
“Rumor is that he’s dying already.”
“Got two sons though, hasn’t he?”
“What am I supposed to do with them?”
“Kill them instead. Make sure you take over. We get his empire, move into his mansion. Our problems are over.”
My father manages a bitter laugh. “That simple, is it? Just kill the two most dangerous men in the city. Giovanni’s got a wife you know. You want me to kill her too?” His voice fades as they move further away from me.
“Why not? What matters to you, Roberto? The Casella famiglia or your own?”
“Even if I kill Giovanni, Nico will come gunning for me. Doesn’t that thought scare you?”
“Not if you whack them both at once.”
“How am I supposed to do that? You know how many people have taken a shot at Nico? Not one of them lived to tell about it. He’s the devil. He can’t be killed.”
“You’re the Don. You work it out. I’ll tell you this though, you better do something.”
“I am doing something. I’m trying to find a husband for Aurora.”
“And how’s that going?”
“Luca’s got his feelers out.”
“You’re relying on her brother to pick her husband?”
“He’s got connections with more of the families than me through his dealers.”
“What about her sneaking out of here?”
“She’s learned her lesson. She won’t do it again any time soon. I put her in the stables.” He laughs. “Best place for a broodmare.”
My mother glances my way. I duck down out of sight, hoping she didn’t see me. She speaks loudly enough for me to hear clearly. “If she sneaks out again, I’ll slit her throat myself.”
I turn away. I don’t want to hear any more. I feel sick. I’ve heard my mom make threats against me before but this time, she sounds serious. I touch my neck instinctively, as if the blade is already slicing into me.
My own parents discussing my death. It’s that or marriage to whoever they pick for me. What kind of choice is that?
