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We all turn to Marty G, who picks himself up from the floor and rubs his jaw, glaring at Barone’s body. “Motherfucker,” he mutters, and then, “Excuse me, Maestra.”
“Understandable in the circumstances,” she says, smoothing down her skirt and patting her hair back in place. “Martino, if you would be so kind as to contact the cleaners? And now, Fabrizio, I’d like the full explanation, please.”
* * *
I lay it all out for her as soon as Marty G is gone, and she also sends the Shadow away to let the house guards know what happened.
“You told me you had a risk assessment done on options to disrupt PacSyn business,” I remind her. “It was Barone who ran the assessment, right?”
She nods. “Of course. He is—was—my Consigliere,” she says. “He was the natural one to go to for the risk assessment. But how clever of him,” she says, almost with admiration. “He never tried to dissuade me from the Port attack, but only focused on how much benefit there would be from the First National job instead. And…I believe he may have played on my sentimentalities regarding your father, Fabrizio.”
Sentimentalities? My mother? I guess we all have our soft spots, even the most unlikely of us.
“There’s more, Maestra,” Max says, looking at me. I give him a nod. If she has to hear it, better from Max than from me. “I think your Consigliere had delusions of grandeur. His deal with PacSyn was going so well, maybe he got the idea that perhapshecould run the Family—if only you and your children were out of the way. He knew it would require your deaths, because you and your sons all hold a particular kind of charisma. The kind that breeds loyalty.”
Mom raises her eyebrow at that, but she doesn’t deny it.
“I think the job at First National was intended to kill both Bricker and Nico,” Max goes on. “Or if not kill Nico, hold him hostage, force you to hand yourself over with a false promise of his release. And then Barone would have had you killed, too. He was only waiting for his moment—waiting for the right patsies, perhaps. He wasn’t a man who liked to get his hands bloody.”
She regards Barone’s body on the floor. “If what you say is true, Massimo, then he’s lucky he died so painlessly.”
“He got a little too cocky,” Max says. “You told me, Maestra, that no one in your Family knew who I was—who I was to Bricker’s father, at least.”
“And still they do not.”
“Butheknew,” Max tells her, nodding at Barone. “So if he wasn’t supposed to, then he’s been eavesdropping.”
My mother’s face is quite terrible to look at as she considers the implications, and I almost take a step back. “He told you that he knew?”
“First damn day we met,” Max says. “He wanted me off-balance, I think, tried to get in my head during the car ride from Redwood to here. He dropped a hint, subtle enough that I only wondered, but then when you mentioned it, too…well, I figured Fabi had talked after all.”
Anna-Vittoria suddenly looks sadder than I’ve ever seen her. “Whatever else he is, Fabi is no rat. Henevertold anyone your name, never spoke it aloud—except once. After he was sentenced, he asked me to send a postcard for him. A postcard to one Max Pedretti. I did so, against my better judgment. But as it was his only request of me…” She trails off.
I don’t know what postcard she’s talking about, but Max sure seems to. He just nods.
“What about Chuckles Moran?” I ask. “What did you say to him yesterday?”
“I told him a few things that will live on in his nightmares, no doubt,” she says. “But if I’d known of Barone’s treachery when I spoke to him, I don’t think I would have let him leave. Still, Moran is the kind of man who likes to overplay his hand regularly. I’m sure I’ll have another chance to put him down for good.”
She turns to me, holding out her hands, and I take them. This is my mother now, not my Maestra. I can tell from the look in her eye. “Fabrizio,” she says, “I have done a disservice to you and Niccolo these many years. I did not publicly claim you as my sons, because I wanted to protect you.”
“I know why you did it,” I say quickly, “and, frankly, Mom, it was for the best. It made me want to prove myself to the Family. To you.”
“And so you have,” she says. “But I think from now on, since you and Niccolo are grown men who do not need to hide behind your mother, we will make it known who you really are. PacSyn and any other enemies must understand that there will always be people to take my place if they remove me.”
I lean down to hug her, trying not to grin too wide.
“I hope you know you have a friend in the Castellanis, Maestra,” Max says afterward.
She gives him a slightly cynical smile. “You really were the perfect envoy,” she tells him. “How can I possibly reject friendship now that you have done such a service to my Family?”
* * *
“I think she likes you,” I tell Max as we’re once again driving out of the Villa.
“She may change her mind when she finds out about—well.” He glances at me with a rueful look. “Maybe we missed our chance to tell her today.”
I shake my head. “She’s got enough to worry about right now. We can deal with Mom another time. But if you’re up for it…I’d kind of like to deal with Dad, first.”
