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Thank God. Then I must relay my plan to him and get home quickly to ward off suspicion.
Chapter 25
Giulia
Robertowaslessthanpleased about our happy little Positano bubble being popped. On the other hand, I was delighted to hear that he does, in fact, have a lot of business connections as Rob Leone in Italy to back up my claims. He reluctantly stayed behind, planning on returning for the upcoming gala tonight, and I've been at my family's for over an entire day without raising any suspicions.
The funeral was like any other Russo funeral I've attended. Brief and very lavish but not publicized in any way. My parents don’t attend every funeral connected with our family—there are too many. As the head Don and the head Don's wife, they must be very selective and calculated about making public appearances. But they had a particular fondness for Tyson.
They also told me they wanted to show solidarity with the more peaceful Russos when so many are biting at the bit to punish the Giovannis for something no one can prove so far.
I sigh and strip out of the black dress I wore to the funeral, tucking it back into my small suitcase and changing instead into dark gray pencil pants and a pale blouse. I'm in one of my parents' many guest rooms, elegant and spacious, with abstract art taking up much of one wall.
As I move my suitcase back to the corner of the room, I pause. I hear someone speaking in hushed tones in the sprawling backyard under my window. Curious, I crack the silent window just slightly because too much information is never bad. It's hard to make out my mother's words, but I manage.
"…course, he would be landing in northern California. It's where the gala is. What? No, that's unnecessary. Why? Because we know the Giovannistronzoflew directly from Italy, that's why."
I tense. She's talking about Roberto. She has to be.
"Now that we know he'll be there, send Leo and Aldo over. Hmm? Of course, it'll happen at the gala. Where else is there to get, even if he's there? We'll make our move at the end." She listens for a moment and sighs. "It's not your concern why Leo and Aldo should be here and not there. Call it a hunch. Yes, watch duty. No, I'll see you there."
I don’t hear any more, and I quickly shut the window quietly, rush from the guest room to the bathroom, and turn on the shower. If anyone comes up to check whether or not I overheard, they'll think I was in here, hearing nothing.
My heart hammers as I look at myself in the mirror. My family is still planning to get even. Tonight, at the gala. With Roberto.
Earlier, my parents were very adamant that I didn't need to be at the event. They said it's because our newly appointed representative will be there, and they were all for me flying out tonight but based on what I heard…
They wouldn't send mafiosos here unless they were suspicious of me. My mother said it was a hunch, and she and my father never take risks.
My gut clenches. Roberto is in danger, and I can't let him get hurt.
I wait five minutes before turning off the shower, just in case anyoneislistening in, and then I wait another ten minutes before slipping out into the hall. My parents would have left by now to get to where the gala is in northern California on time—they're punctual to a fault. I find a window with a sprawling view of the meticulous front yards and peek out.
Sure enough, parked on the street near the path that goes to the ocean is a Russo car. I know Leo and Aldo are in there, watching the house from a distance.
Quickly, I dial Mandi. I called her two days ago from Italy to let her know that Roberto was there with me and that he knew he was the father, and she had squealed to her heart's content. Now, I'm just praying she's willing to speed for me.
She answers with another squeal, of course. "Girl, how is Italy? How's your baby daddy mafioso boyfriend? How's—"
"Where are you right now?"
" I'm driving north of LA to visit my mom in Sacramento. Why?"
Thank God. "Are you close to Santa Barbara? I'm here, and I need your help."
Mandi gasps. "You're back in the States? Why?"
"I'll catch you up on the way. I'm sending you an address—and God, please speed like your life fucking depends on it."
"Shit! Is this a mafia thing? This is totally a mafia thing. Oh myGod, Giules, please don’t be bleeding out on me."
I roll my eyes as I scurry back to my room to begin changing, rummaging through everything I brought for the nicest dress. "I'm not, but someone else might be by the end of the gala."
"Gala! There's a gala? God, okay, I'm on my way."
Hanging up, I huff and send her the address. Not my parents' address, of course—if she pulled up in front of this place, those Russos watching outside would be on our tail in a minute. And while I could handle muscle-locked Leo and one-eyed Aldo any day of the week, I don’t have time to knock them out.
Instead, I grab everything I'll need, shove it into a spare bag, and slip out the back door of my parents' mansion. I race past their long swimming pool and through more landscaped grounds until I reach a fence. Leaping it, I stick to the cover of trees and finally come out when I'm sure the Russos can't see me here in front of my parents' nearest neighbors.
