Page 71 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride

Vincenzo nods. “Drug overdose a week or so later.”

Roman’s brow furrows. Something exchanges between him and Vincenzo.

“What?” I ask.

Roman shakes his head. “Just a waste of a life. Before he passed, did he say anything to you?”

Vincenzo looks at me and shrugs. “Not really.”

I scan my brain for any memory of reading the name Tony Carlotta in the reports Agent Blackwood gave me, but I don’t recall.

Isn’t that something the FBI would have noted?

And isn’t it odd that he’d be dead not long after my mom’s murder?

“Where was my mom going?” I ask.

Vincenzo glances at Roman again as if he’s looking for permission to speak. “There was talk…” He hesitates.

“What talk?” I press, starting to feel irked. Roman brought me here for answers, but I feel like both men are hiding something from me.

Vincenzo shifts uncomfortably in his chair, his eyes darting to Roman and back to me. "Your mother was seen meeting someone a few times in the weeks before she died."

"Meeting someone?" What does that mean? "Who?"

"A man. Not from any of the families." Vincenzo's weathered hands fidget in his lap. "I drove her once to this café downtown. Small place, not fancy. She asked me to wait around the corner. When I picked her up an hour later, she seemed… agitated."

My mind races. My mother meeting a stranger in secret? It doesn't fit with the woman I remember, devoted to my father, always proper, always careful.

"Why would she meet this man?" I ask, my mouth suddenly dry. It reminds me of the day I learned who my father was… what my father was.

Vincenzo shrugs. "Some thought maybe an affair, but…"

“No.” I don’t believe that. “My mother would never?—”

"Others said maybe an informant. FBI or police." Vincenzo looks apologetic as he says it. "Nothing certain, just whispers."

My mother talking to law enforcement?

The idea seems absurd. She was born into this world, understood its rules better than anyone.

Then again, so was I and I wanted out. Did she want out too? "Did my father know about these meetings?"

"If he did, he never said, but I’m just a driver." Vincenzo's eyes grow sad. "After she died, no one talked about it. It was like everyone wanted to forget."

I sit back, trying to process this new information.

My mother, meeting a mysterious man in secret.

Rumors of an affair.

Or an informant? But why?

What could have driven her to take such a risk?

“That was around the time with all that hoopla with Ernie Abr?—”

“That was separate.” Roman’s expression hardens.