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"Drive the damn car, Tony," I say to him.
"There's obviously a reason as to why our Father has chosen for me to be here in this very moment. I will not fight His Will," she says reverently.
"Okay," I say, trying my best not to make a face at her words. "You and I can unpack all of that later on. Tony," I say up to the front of the car.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Drop us off at the mansion. I trust you can handle taking the body to the crematory?"
"Sure thing," he says.
The rest of the drive transpires in relative silence. Not even Father Murphy can think of anything to say.
ChapterTwelve
I usher her into the mansion. I never really thought I would be back to living here full-time. However, first our father got arrested and sentenced to legitimate jail time. Then, after arguing over it for what felt like an eternity, Primo and Giovanni ended up dumping the leadership of the family onto me so they could go off and get married.
Which was an idiotic thing to do, considering that I've never involved myself in the family business. But, pussy makes you do crazy things.
I mean, love makes you do crazy things.
Being the head of the New England Crime Syndicate came with a special level of "Someone Might Try and Murder Me in my Home." My normal spot was definitely not set up for that, so the only other place to go was the mansion. Primo and Giovanni had since moved out of it, chasing their respective lives and women.
And Consty? Well, his whereabouts were a little more fluid since he killed dear old Charlie. I'd been encouraged by a few of the more senior members of the leadership to move somewhere more secure. They claimed that the mansion wasn't as defensible as it needed to be given the current situation.
The current situation, of course, being increasing violence among mobs and our family's position in question.
Anyway, back to me escorting Raven into the mansion. My hand is on the small of her back, leading her forward through the large oak door. My fingers ache to touch more of her, hating the fact that she's wearing a thick dress made out of thicker fabric.
"You'll be safe here,” I say to her as we walk through the big and mostly empty hallways.
As we walk through the lofty corridors, I realize that the mansion feels a lot like the cathedral. The hallways are mostly empty. They're dark. There's nothing to really bring warmth to the place.
Our footsteps echo against the cold floor. It feels like there's a mile between us as I walk next to her. I hate the feeling.
She doesn't respond, and I note her silence.
We walk past the kitchen, and I stop. The kitchen is probably my favorite room in the entire mansion. There's an oversized refrigerator and freezer on the far wall. Shiny stainless steel appliances brighten the space, and a large island with a wooden butcher's block sits in the middle.
There are always plenty of chairs around the island, but I'm usually the only one here eating. My heart does a weird skip in my chest cavity about the thought of her and me sharing a meal together.
"Are you hungry?"
"No," she says, but I don't believe her. Either that or I am unable to face her rejection of an idea I haven't yet voiced.
"Are you sure?" I goad.
"Yes," she replies, her voice even. She's not even looking up at me.
I may have only spent about 24 hours with her as teenagers, but in that short amount of time, I really felt like I got to know her. It's what let me know that she's not happy with her current situation, even if she wants to pretend like it's God's Plan (an actual plan, not the Drake song).
I decide that it's best to just let her adjust before I start trying to make her feel better. I walk her down the rest of the hallway and into a guestroom. It just so happens to be the guestroom that is right next to my own bedroom, but that's just a weird coincidence.
I watch her look around the room. I guarantee that it's better appointed than wherever she was sleeping in the cathedral.
There's a plush red carpet that covers the floor and brings warmth to the otherwise cold mansion. A king bed is on the far wall. There's a media center with a television opposite the bed, and dressers and chairs scattered about the room.
I know that there's an adjoining bathroom through a side door tucked around the corner that has a jacuzzi tub, shower, and every grooming product one can think of, let alone need.
