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“Does this mean what I think it does?” Jimmy asked.
“I think it does. It’s not a fucking DNA test, but it comes pretty close.”
This ring undoubtedly belonged to Enzo Amato. It was a symbol of his sworn Omertà. Even if it were made out of tin foil instead of gold, it was invaluable to its owner. It was proof of his loyalty to the Mafiosi family. A token of his respect and commitment to live by our code of honor and silence, sealed with blood, and only with blood repaired if broken.
This ring was the symbol of his ceremony. Enzo wouldn’t have lost it or gifted it to someone who had no importance to him.
There was a tradition that not every cosca followed, where the owner of one of these would gift it to the love of his life, bonding their soul and connection through the blood spilled to receive it.
But I had to be sure this was the case before I spoke to Matt. There might not be a need for him to marry Francesca at all.
“I have to find out where Jamie got this from. We’ll know then.” I walked towards the office door, already rehearsing how I’d address the issue without raising any unnecessary suspicions with Jamie. “Oh, and Jimmy, I don’t think I need to tell you that this remains confidential. Am I clear?”
“Crystal.” I nodded and started for the door before he stopped me. “But boss? There’s something else you need to know.”
I was so eager to get to the bottom of this and stop my brother from sacrificing his life that I had automatically thought this was all that Jimmy had come to tell me. What more could there be?
I turned around to face him, giving him a short nod for him to carry on.
“Frank implied that Jamie’s mother didn’t die in childbirth as she believes. He thinks she was killed right after delivering while still in the hospital. We searched the visitor’s log in their archives, and the only odd entry is of a woman called Francis Harden. Frank didn’t give his name to Jamie, so Harden is her mother’s maiden name. The strange thing about this is that Jamie’s mother didn’t have any female family members alive. No mother, no sisters, no cousins, and no aunts.”
Color me fucking shocked. This whole thing was beginning to sound a lot like a commissioned murder, only confirming my suspicions that Enzo had, in fact, been involved with Jamie’s mother. But who would have done it?
“See what else you can get, but be discreet about it. Report back if you find anything else. Anything. Thanks, Jimmy.”
I led him to the door, quickly shutting it behind him.
That last piece of information was disturbing as fuck. If Frank was right and Mrs. Harden was in fact killed, it would probably be the same person who paid him to shut up and take care of Jamie.
I looked down at the ring in my hand again, inhaling deeply, and marching towards the kitchen where Jamie was busy cooking and humming to the tune of the song playing on the speaker.
“Hmmm… My God!” I inhaled her sweet scent as I hugged her from behind, my nose deeply buried in the crook of her neck. “I don’t know what smells better, you or whatever it is you’re making.”
It was the first time Jamie was cooking here, and somehow she seemed happy. She looked better each day as her bruises faded and her skin regained its cute flush. And today of all days, when our future was depending on a bunch of old farts that took pleasure in playing God.
I, on the other hand, still had this enormous weight on my shoulders, and this meeting with Jimmy had done nothing to ease the burden.
“Why, hello there, Sir.” She teased, turning her head around and placing a peck on the tip of my nose.
“Hello to you, Beautiful.” I spun her around to face me, taking her lips in mine before plunging into whatever voyage this ring would take us on. “I found this ring, is it yours?” I asked, holding out the ring for her.
“Oh my God. Yes. It was my mother’s.” Jamie took the ring from my hand, her eyes beaming as she looked at it, not hiding the nostalgia this item brought. “It’s just some cheap jewelry I guess she liked. With her and my…hum… Frank’s initials. See?” She showed me the letters engraved on it, tracing them with her thumb. “FA it stands for Frank and Amanda. She must have loved it. She wore it on a necklace since it’s huge. Every single photo I have of her pregnant with me, although there aren’t many, she always had it around her neck.” There was sadness coming afloat again, and I’d do anything to keep her in the chipper mood I had found her in just a minute ago, but I had to push.
“It’s really nice. Any idea where she got it from?”
“I don’t really know. Frank never talked much about her, or them for that matter. One day he just gave me a box full of her things, and this ring was inside it, together with some photos and other personal things of hers.”
“It’s nice that you have something of hers to remember her by.” I pulled her in for another kiss as a pivot to change the subject before she asked why I was so interested in what she thought was nothing but a piece of junk jewelry. “What are you making for dinner that smells absolutely divine?”
“Lasagna,” Jamie replied, wiggling her eyebrows before a bright smile illuminated her face. It was the first real and genuine smile she had flashed probably since the day we returned from LA. I fucking missed it like water in a desert.
“Oh, the cliché!” I joked, my head falling back in a theatrical exaggeration as I tried to lighten the mood and her spirits. She laughed at the gesture and I couldn’t help but think that this was exactly what I wanted my life to be like. That was the sound I wanted to hear every damn day – our laughter filling the air.
We savored the perfect meal Jamie prepared for us with a lightness I couldn’t remember ever experiencing that somehow managed to take my mind off the meeting that was happening as we ate. I convinced her that the dishes were my duty and sent her off to read one of those books she always kept her nose in when she wasn’t working.
Halfway through cleaning, my phone flashed with the text I was anxious to receive.
Matt: I’m downstairs. Want to talk alone or in front of Jamie?
