Page 130

"It’s a black glob," I say, disappointed.

"It's a jellybean," Antonio says, kissing the top of my head and filling me with so much love I feel like I'm going to explode.

A week later…

I'm in a deep sleep when my phone rings. What asshole is calling me this early in the morning? The name on the display shows MO—Marcello Orsi. Fuck. I jump out of bed and make my way into the bathroom, stepping carefully over hairclips and curlers while trying not to wake Scarlet, and close the door before I bark, “Orsi.”

My mind is going into overdrive. Enrico told me that Marcello was out of the hospital, but with everything going on, I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet.

“You sound tired.” Marcello greets me, sounding like his old self. If he's not going to mention that he's out and about, I'm sure as hell not going to.

“I am." I overexaggerate a yawn. "If this is a social call, I'll have to call you back.”

He chuckles, appreciating the fact that neither one of us is the social type. “No. It’s about Donna Margarita. I found out from a very reliable source that she’s the one who wants me dead."

Now that's news worth being woken up to. Even though I have no idea why Donna Margarita would want Marcello dead, I trust him. Still, as interesting as this news is, why is he telling me?

As if he can feel my questions burning, he lets a pause grate between us, and just when I fill my lungs to give the fucker the satisfaction of my asking, he drops another bomb. "You should also know that, according to the same source, it was Donna Margarita, not Edoardo, who ordered the hit on your dad."

I sink down on the edge of the bathtub. What. The. Hell? Why would Donna Margarita order a hit on my father? Edoardo's motive, however weak, is there, but hers? The silence stretches.

After a moment, I demand, "I need the name of your source."

"I didn't expect anything less. Fabio Becattini. His body is on its way to be delivered to Donna Margarita."

Well fuck, this fucker is full of bombs this morning. I run a hand through my hair, digesting this newest information.

"Fuck, Marcello. You've got some balls, man. She's going to go to war with you."

"I already am with her. Let her come," he replies, unconcerned. “You ever wonder why Edoardo married Isabella when everyone knows he's in love with Helen?”

“Politics, probably. Alliances. Power,” I wager, still trying to digest the news he's thrown at me, especially trying to figure out what beef Donna Margarita could have had with my father great enough to order him killed.

“Maybe,” he admits. “But if you ask me? Margarita’s holding something over him. Maybe more than one something. I think he married Isabella to appease her, and now he’s shackled to both.”

“She’s the real threat, then.”

“Looks that way.”

Shit. Just what we need, another enemy lurking in the corner. Marcello has his hands fuller than mine, which reminds me, “What about Sophia? Any leads?” A few days ago Marcello's sister had been abducted, and her husband was brutally killed.

“No. Still missing.” I can hear the heaviness in his voice. Shit. Having just been through the same hell with Gigi, I know how he feels. I'm sure Marcello is close to exploding. He keeps his cool, though. “Fabio didn't know anything about her or Roberto’s murder. I don't think they're connected. Whoever took my sister did it to send a message. They didn’t just kill Roberto; they tortured everyone in that house. That wasn’t business. That was personal.”

“You think Margarita ordered something behind Fabio's back?” I theorize. At this point, it seems everything is possible.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t fit her MO. It was too messy. Too loud.”

I move Scarlet's silk robe from the floor and place it over the tub, just to have something to do. “So where does that leave us?”

“Looking at Raffael. He’s gone off the map. Stephano sent him to handle something in Venezuela—Edoardo’s been cozying up to the Venezuelans, trying to build new alliances since he lost control over some of the capos.” Raffael is one of Stephano's underbosses; I have no clue why he would have anything to do with Sophia's disappearance. Then again, it was Marcello's bodyguard who tried to assassinate him. I'm going to have to get Vito to double-check all our men. At this point, I don’t trust anybody.

As if reading my mind, Marcello says, "Margarita got to one of my bodyguards; it's reasonable to assume she got to Raffael too."

I hate putting this on him now, but I have to know if he's still invested in our other plans. “We still going through with the plan for Carlos and Edoardo?”

“Absolutely. But we need to wait for the right opening. No mistakes.”

“Agreed.”