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I clear my throat. “With your permission, Carmine, I would like to send my brother Matteo here to help with security.”
“That’s not necessary,” interjects Sera.
“It absolutely is,” I counter. The men that Mucci brought with him to the cottage are old. Too old. Mucci’s men are his contemporaries. They need younger, stronger blood. But I do not say this. “I am certain we were not followed here. But in the event that the wrong people find out where you and your family are, you will need more security than this.”
“My father is more than capable of making his own decisions.” Sera’s eyes flash, her tone rising.
“And yet, you are very free in offering him your opinions,” I point out.
“That’s different! This is my family’s business!” she explodes.
“Sera!” her father thunders. She immediately snaps her mouth shut. “You will be quiet. Antony, the D’Agostinos have always been friends to the Muccis. You are correct, allies are important at a time such as this.” He turns to his daughter. “Sera, there is a change of plans. You will go back to the city, to the house. You will be my eyes and ears. You will work with Antony, under my orders.”
“But Daddy, I can’t just leave you here!” Sera gasps.
“You can,” Carmine says firmly. “You will. This is the way it will be. Say goodbye to your mother and sister.”
Sera stares at him in disbelief. But she doesn’t protest further. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she considers what this means. After a few moments, she nodswordlessly, shooting me another dark scowl. I’m surprised she gives up with so little fuss, until it occurs to me that it’s because she probably realizes someone does need to be at the helm of her father’s organization while he’s away.
And probably, because she wants to protect it from me.
7
ANTONY
Icall my brother Matteo and explain the situation to him. He agrees immediately to my request that he come to the Mucci safehouse, as I knew he would. Matteo is as solid and dependable as Marco is unserious and hedonistic. There is no one I would rather have than Matteo on the ground here. If anything goes south, he’ll let me know immediately.
The drive back to Cleveland with Sera is even more silent than the ride to the safe house with her quietly fuming next to me. I let her stew, sneaking glances at her as she looks out the window, lost in thought. She chews on her plump bottom lip, thoughts clearly churning in that head of hers. God, she really is gorgeous. The girl is distracting me from driving. I clear my throat and direct my eyes back to the road.
Eventually, the quiet gets to me and I decide to prod her a bit.
“Why are you so angry with me?” I ask.
Her arms are crossed tightly in front of her. “I’m not angry at you,” she grits out. I can tell it costs her to admit it. “I’m angry with the situation. And you’re part of the situation. I can’t believe I have to go back to Cleveland and just sit there, withno way of finding out who is responsible for the attempt on my father’s life. No way ofdoinganything about it.”
“He’s letting you go back to Cleveland to be at the helm,” I remind her.
She blows a raspberry. “Not to be at the helm. I still won’t be allowed to make any decisions. I’ll just be there watching over things while he’s away. If I tell him about anything that needs to be done… God, he’ll probably consultyoubefore deciding whether it’s the right thing.” She looks at me with something like loathing. “You, who havenothingto do with the Mucci family. You, who might be helping whoever is responsible for trying to kill my father.”
“Oh, will stop with that old song, for God’s sake?” I retort, my frustration finally getting the better of me. “Your family will be ten times safer with my brother there. Not to mention your sister and your mother. Matteo can call all the D’Agostino men in if need be. You should be grateful for that. Not that I’m expecting your gratitude or anything.”
“Good,” she huffs.
I’m tired to death of this argument, so I decide to switch up the conversation. Try a little honey on her, instead of vinegar.
“You know, Serafina,” I say, adopting a pleasant tone, “the fact that your father even allows you to know anything about his business speaks volumes about you. About the respect he has for your intelligence.”
“Respect, nothing. Anyway, it makes no difference.” She turns to me. “Do you know, my father has taken my counsel on business matters for years now?” She blinks, then looks abashed. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”
“No, you probably shouldn’t. But do it anyway. Go on.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Sera, for God’s sake, I’m not going to somehow use this information against you. Get a grip on yourself.”
Sera gives me an appraising look. “You didn’t even grow up here in Cleveland. How did you end up on the verge of being the D’Agostino capo?”
Ah. So she does know about me. Some of my history, at least. Well, if she’s going to learn about how I got where I am, she may as well know it from my mouth. “No, you’re right. I didn’t. I grew up in Ironwood, Ohio. My mother took me and my four brothers away from here after my father got whacked when I was a kid.” I flick the painful memory away with a hand. “Long story. They never figured out who did it. Or maybe they did, but they never told us kids, or my ma. I came back here when I was seventeen.”
“You had a choice and you came back, knowing this life had killed your father?”
“Well, like the mafia movies say, my uncle made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” I chuckle. “But yeah. I did choose to come back. And I’m glad I did.”
