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Divina burst out laughing, although it bore a vitriolic tinge to it. “That’s not how it works.”

“Each crime family is unique. Do you want to manage charities? Sometimes, wives stay out of the husband’s business and remain oblivious to it.”

“Rossi wives used to be that way, but after what happened to Joe’s wife, remaining ignorant about her husband’s mistress and his side dealings, I told Tommy I don’t want that for us.”

We walked out of the sitting room and returned to the first floor. “I need more coffee for this.” I’d had breakfast and a mug of coffee. But I was still feeling the exhaustion from the collective events of the past few days.

I got the second pot of coffee going and turned back to Divina. “I didn’t ask. Did you grow up in the mafia?”

“No.” She gave a tight smile. “My family owns a restaurant in Brooklyn and that’s where I met Tommy.”

“Were you forced to marry him?”

Again, an evasive look. “Not really. I liked him. But my father owed the Rossis money. Tommy paid it off to the family.”

“Did you marry him because you felt indebted?”

“I love Tommy,” she whispered.

Maybe I needed a double shot of espresso for this talk. “I’m not seeing the problem, Divina.”

Her jaw tightened, and for a split second I saw rebellion flash in her eyes. “I don’t want him to become the boss, but he wants it. And I love him. It’s important to him.”

Ah…hell. I wasn’t equipped to handle this. I didn’t say anything for a while, but grabbed our used mugs and rinsed them to warm them up again, contemplating what to say.

“Does Tommy know you don’t want him to be boss?” I asked finally.

She shook her head. “But I have to be supportive.”

“Are you resenting him for wanting to be boss?” How I felt about Sandro being boss didn’t factor here.

“No. I knew that was a possibility when I married him. I don’t want to feel like a failure. He’s done so much for me and my family.”

I didn’t have any answers for her. Sandro thought all she needed was to become more assertive.Men. Assertiveness was a personality. It was something that couldn’t be taught overnight. Growing up with three older brothers with dominant personalities shaped me into who I was today. Mix the De Lucci bossiness with McGrath stubbornness, and I was the result. And it depended on what I felt strongly about.

That was why my brothers called me sweet, but a psycho. I could be sweet about one thing and psychotic about other stuff.

But I had also known Divina for less than a day. What did I know about all her hopes and dreams?

We both turned toward the kitchen entrance when we heard the front door open followed by voices. Sticks appeared with a big smile on his face. A lanky boy in a fisherman’s cap and dark coveralls stood beside him.

“Look who’s here!” he said.

“Sloane!” Divina exclaimed. The two rushed toward each other as if they were long-lost friends. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Busy with jobs.” The melodious voice was unmistakably feminine.

I raised a brow. Sloane was a girl.

“I’ll leave you girls to it,” Sticks said. “Boss just called.”

Before I could ask him where Sandro was, he retreated. I focused on the newcomer. She was slightly taller than me and I couldn’t discern her build from the oversized clothes. Reddishhair peeked underneath her cap. I wasn’t sure if it was short or she had it bunched under it.

“This is Bianca.”

Sloane raised her hand, and I couldn’t help raising mine to shake it. “Nice to meet you, Sloane.”

The lip of the cap partially shadowed her eyes. Freckles smattered her nose and cheeks. Her skin was creamy and pale, like she hardly saw the sun. Her pinkish lips were generous and defined.