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Her mousy brown hair is now thick waves of blond extensions. They now hang unkempt around her face. She’s skinnier than I remember, the strength in her frame lost, having given way to visible bones. Her skin is a shade or two darker than the porcelain I remember. It’s an artificial change, like the extensions, keeping her the character she seems to have lost herself in.
“Must be a fall from grace being a decorated detective to sucking sleazy cock for a dodgy lead.”
Her hand drops from her mouth. “I’ll be a fucking hero after this.” She doesn’t quite believe her statement, the shake in her voice too poignant to ignore.
“That so?”
“I’ll take down Cosa Nostra.Me.” She stabs her finger at her chest.
I scoff, turning away dismissively. “My mom saw you for the snake you were.” I speak to the peeling wallpaper of the cheap motel she’s holed us up in. “Even protecting me, she refused to give up the family.”
The room smells like stale cigarette smoke, cheap sex, a stagnant taste of mold, and the right amount of desperation to eat away at your soul the moment you step inside.
“She was weak.” She moves the stained curtain of the single window aside, peeking out.
My lip twists up in distaste. “On the contrary, she was the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”
Krista Delaney hounded my mother for years.Years. She begged, she pleaded, she threatened. But Rita Romano held steady. She knew the consequences of giving in to Krista’s demands. She might have been unfaithful, but she was no turncoat.
Her face scrunches up in confusion. “She had the opportunity to take down one of the biggest crime syndicates in the country.”
“What’s your point?” I provoke.
A task once set by her employer has grown into an obsession. She’s no longer thinking straight. Blinded by her end goal, the world around her is creeping in, forcing her to make mistakes.
She inhales deeply, her frustration heightening with every second that passes.
“I’d say my mother was loyal. Trustworthy,” I declare, knowing that’s exactly who my mother was.
“Yet,” she mocks, “she fucked another man to have a bastard child.”
Bitch.
I swallow the animosity her insult brings.
“You can’t help who you love. You should know that better than anyone,” I sneer. “Tony Rossi know you’re the enemy?”
Her fists clench.
“Also, you’re one to talk.” I pull my hand forward, attempting to dislodge the cuff it’s caught within. “You tried to fuck Vincent when you knew he was married.”
“Married?” She laughs. “Forcing a child into matrimony hardly counts as a happy marriage.”
“Vincent and Bianca are happy.”
She rolls her eyes. “She’s brainwashed.”
I can’t deny I thought the same thing when my mother explained how weddings in the family take place. But seeing Vincent and Bianca, there is a fierce love between them. It’s not forced. It blossomed from mutual trust and respect.
“It’ll happen to you too, you know that, right?”
I scowl.
“They’ll tie you to some criminal who will give zero fucking shits about you.”
What old sicko am I supposed to marry?
Enzo suggested Leo.
