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I shake my head. “No thanks. I was just coming to check in,” I say, my eyes roaming around the table.
There are about five men, each of them in their later forties to early fifties, each of them politicians or affluent businessmen. And every single one of them used to work with my father when he was alive. The capos that helped to keep his empire stable in one way or the other.
“Everything’s fine here,” Coleman says, his eyes very alike his daughter’s. “Am I right?”
The other men murmur their agreement. I nod, getting ready to leave when Zanetti stops me.
“My daughter informed me you haven’t been paying her any attention of late.”
I grit my teeth as I look up at the man. “I’ve been busy.”
“Right. Hopefully not too busy for your future wife. Put a ring on her soon, would you, Rome? You’re not doing yourself any favors staying so long without a woman at your side.”
“Of course.” I swallow. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.”
By the time I arrive at my car, I’m agitated and in the mood to punch something. But I stave off my anger in favor of driving to the airport to pick up Rosa. She’s been gone a month and is only just returning to the country after some artist’s retreat.
When she spots me waiting for her, she smiles, walking over and giving me a hug. “Hey, big brother.”
I peer at her, running my hand through the tips of her hair which have been dyed red.
“What is this? A cry for help?”
She rolls her eyes. “No. I just felt like doing it. I got a month away from Mom, Rome—of course I was going to do something crazy. Plus, I’m an artist.” She sniffs. “It’s a form of expression.”
I grin. “Mom’s definitely going to lose her shit.”
She shrugs and I grab her suitcase, leading her out of the airport to my car so we can begin the ride home. She tells me all about her retreat on the way and I try my best to listen, but after my chat with Zanetti, my mind is miles away. With my daughter and her mother who keeps fucking with my head.
Of course, my sister notices.
“Che succeed, fratello?” she asks—“what’s up” in Italian. “You’re distracted.”
I blow out a breath and glance at her. Her expression is open and curious. Rosa and I have always had a pretty good relationship, in the sense that we never really hide the important shit from each other. For example, she used to tell me all about the guys she had a crush on and I used to have a lot of fun making sure they stayed the hell away from her. I never told her that, of course. Anyway, Rosa trusts me, and I trust my little sister. Which is why I feel the need to tell her the truth.
Rosa tilts her head in confusion when I suddenly pull over, stopping the car by the side of the road.
“Okay, I’m going to say something and I’m going to need you to not freak out,” I start.
She nods once. “Alright, I’m listening.”
I take in a deep breath. “I have a daughter.”
Rosa’s eyes widen to the size of golf balls. I don’t allow the shock to pass before I lay it all on her. I tell her that Elena’s the mother of my child and that she left for London to hide her pregnancy. I tell her all about Cassie and the fucked-up situation I’ve found myself in.
By the time I’m done explaining, I feel lighter than I have in weeks. It felt good to get it all off my chest. Of course, it seems I’ve traumatized my sister in the process. Rosa doesn’t speak for several minutes and I stay quiet, letting her take it all in.
“You and Elena have a child together?” she asks, horrified.
“Yep.”
“Holy shit!”
I fight back a smile. Rosa’s always so prim and proper all the time thanks to Mom’s grooming. She never really swears, so hearing that from her mouth is amusing.
I lean my head back on the seat and sigh. “Yep.”
“Oh, god. You’re dead. You’re both so dead,” she mutters.
