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Aunt Sylvia smiles, and I sense more than see Chellie relax. At least, until she looks back at Uncle Salvatore, who’s looking at me. Niceties are over, and now it’s time for business.
“Michelle, I hate for us to be rude, but Lorenzo and the rest of the men need to meet.”
“I understand.”
I wrap my arm around her as she turns to me. When our gazes meet, we simply look at each other. Neither wants to give anything away to the others. I don’t raise my eyebrows, but she can tell I’m wondering if she’ll be all right. She doesn’t smile or nod, but I can tell she’s saying yes. I kiss her forehead before I let go. I follow the other men toward Uncle Salvatore’s office and look back as I go. I see Serafina step forward and point to the stairs. I have to trust things out there will be fine because I doubt they will be in Uncle Salvatore’s office.
Once the door’s closed, he taps his cell phone. He puts the call on speaker, and Maks answers on the first ring.
“Enzo, someone’s put a hit on Michelle.”
ChapterTen
Chellie
It’s a lot to fucking take in. So many faces staring at you, assessing you. I just met — let’s see — Salvatore, Sylvia, Carlotta, Domenico, Nicoletta, and Massimo — yeah, my brand-new boyfriend’s parents during some type of crisis that no one seems scared about besides me — Luca, Olivia, Carmine, Serafina, Gabriele, and Marco. I see Sinead — who I haven’t been around since we graduated law school — and Matteo and Maria again.
That’s twelve new people, and three people I don’t know very well. Sinead and I didn’t run in the same circle, and there’s like two hundred people in each year at Yale. We had some classes together, but we weren’t study buddies. She faced off with Laura in moot court, and I was around her a bit through law review. But that was mostly digital work sharing for the school journal.
“Would you like to get changed? Lorenzo has a room upstairs, and I brought you some different things to try. I wasn’t sure what you’d want or what would fit.”
Serafina’s accent is as thick as Sylvia’s, so it’s obvious they both grew up in Italy. When Gabriele said hello, it was a diluted version of theirs. Like he grew up there but maybe came here as a kid.
“Would you like me to show you upstairs?”
“Thank you.”
I almost say she can point me in the right direction, but she’s trying to be friendly. I follow her, and she scoops up the bag. When we reach the top of the stairs, I realize just how huge this castle is. It’s like a hotel hallway. There are doors lining both sides.
“Down there areZioSalvatore andZiaSylvia’s room. Their daughters Pia and Natalia each have their own. Uncle Dom and Auntie Carlotta have a room, and so do Uncle Massi and Auntie Nicoletta. Mama—Paola—has one too. Down this way is everyone else’s.”
She points to them as we pass each. Cesare’s is at the very end of the hallway. He and Paola really do live separate lives.
“Why do you call Salvatorezioand Sylviaziawhen the others are uncle and auntie?”
“My mom isZiaSylvia’s older sister, so even before I moved to America, they were family. Everyone has called the others uncle and auntie since they were children, so those of us who’ve married into the family do too. The others callZiaSylvia, Aunt Sylvia because they were adults when she married into the family.”
“And you call Paola Mama?”
“Yes. She feels like a second mom, which is really nice because my parents still live in Venice.”
“Venice?”
Serafina hesitates as she lays things out on the bed.
“My father is the head of theMala del Brenta.”
She watches me, and I can tell she’s deciding how to proceed from how I react.
“Is that VenetianCosa Nostra?”
“Sorta. It’s Venetian Mafia. My mother grew upCosa Nostrain Sicily. I was born and raised in Venice, but I spent my summers in Sicily. My mother’s family is very close with Gabe’s. His father works for my grandfather and uncles.”
I nod, uncertain what to say. Then something strikes me.
“Sylvia named off all the women with the Mancinelli last name. She named all of you. How is Maria still a Mancinelli? That means Carlotta and Domenico are Mancinellis, too.”
“They are. Uncle Domenico was adopted as an infant. He’sZioSalvatore, Uncle Massimo, and Mama’s second cousin. There’s no blood relation, but Uncle Massimo and Uncle Domenico are best friends who married best friends who had sons who are best friends.”
