Page 95 of Niccolo (Mafia Kings #7)

T he taxi ride from Taormina to Catania took a little over an hour. The airport is the busiest in Sicily, and there were nearly a dozen flights daily to Florence. I grabbed one at the last minute and arrived two hours later.

Another taxi ride from the airport, and I was home less than six hours after my fight with Sofia.

The entire way, I stewed in an emotional acid bath.

When I got back to the house, there were new distractions – but things didn’t get any better.

I found Dario in the safe room at his makeshift desk.

“So – where’s our mole?” I asked as I entered.

He looked up from some papers. “Down in the basement.”

“Underground, where moles belong,” I joked. “Is someone guarding him?”

“Adriano’s been keeping him company.”

“Let’s go, then, while Lazaro can still talk.”

“What happened with the female consigliere?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.”

As we were leaving the safe room, our house manager walked up with a girl. I remembered hiring her to work in the kitchen, but I couldn’t recall her name.

“Don Rosolini,” the manager said, then nodded at me deferentially. “Signor Rosolini. I have some unfortunate news.”

“What?” Dario asked.

The manager gestured to the girl. “Marianna says that a fellow worker has stolen a large amount of money from someone in the house.”

I looked at Dario with a You’ve got to be fucking kidding me expression.

“Caterina?” I asked the girl.

Marianna nodded. She looked proud of herself – even a little bit haughty – for bringing it to our attention. “Yes, signore.”

“You saw her steal it?” Dario asked.

Marianna still wore her slightly haughty smile. “No, Don Rosolini… but she had far more money than she could have possibly saved in the time she’s been working here.”

“This is a serious accusation,” Dario said coldly. “Perhaps she had the money before she came here.”

The girl realized she had somehow landed on Dario’s bad side. “I – it’s possible, I suppose – but it was all in cash, Don Rosolini.”

“We’ll handle it. Thank you,” I said as I grabbed Dario’s arm and hustled him away.

“I’m almost positive she didn’t steal it,” Dario told me.

“Let me guess: a gift from Alessandra.”

Dario just grunted, which was all the confirmation I needed.

“She knows?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“She barged into the room ranting and raving about the arranged marriage.”

“Oh God,” I said guiltily. “Sorry.”

Dario shot me a dark look. “Yes – you were very conveniently on a flight to Sicily at the time.”

“I’ll make it right,” I promised.

“I’m curious to see how you intend to do that.”

“Give me a minute to think about it,” I said. “You know Alessandra’s plan is to send Caterina after Valentino, right?”

“I would assume as much.”

“It’s a fool’s errand. Caterina will never find Vicari’s compound, much less sneak onto it.”

“If she does somehow find out where it is, she might get herself killed.”

“I doubt it. Vicari’s men will send her packing – that’s about it.”

“So what do you suggest? Let her go?”

I shrugged. “I don’t see how she can do any real damage, so… why not?”

Dario narrowed his eyes. “You’re just trying to help me avoid a divorce, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” I said cheerfully. “Now – time for me to play the villain. You play the hero and get back in your wife’s good graces.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

“How much cash can you scrounge up?”

It was a delightful little scene. We just happened to intercept Alessandra and Caterina on the girl’s way out the door, which only heightened the drama.

I demanded Caterina show me the contents of her purse, then got into a shouting match with Alessandra.

I had to admit, she shocked even me. Especially when she said, I am the wife of your Don, consigliere. You would do well to remember your place when speaking to me.

Our sweet little church girl had transformed into the proper wife of a mafioso!

Not only that, but she argued passionately and persuasively for her best friend.

Isn’t it enough that you sent Valentino away to marry some stranger?

Isn’t it enough that you broke Caterina’s heart?

Now you have to punish her, too, by making her stay where she’s reminded of him everywhere she goes?

This woman, who was the only person to make me feel safe and cared for when I came here?

I couldn’t have been more proud of her.

After I was an asshole for a bit, Dario intervened.

At first he played the stern martinet… but then he softened. Not only did he give Caterina more money, he also humiliated me by making me go stand in the corner – and then ordered me to give her all my money, too.

A beautiful performance by all!

Especially by me, if I do say so myself.

My only real qualm was that Caterina looked like she was going to have a heart attack the entire time.

Poor girl… I really had screwed her over by sending Valentino away, and then I nearly gave her a coronary.

I just prayed it was the right decision.

Sending Valentino away, I mean.

Because if it wasn’t, I was never going to be able to forgive myself.

“You’re welcome,” I joked to my brother once we were far enough away from the two women.

He turned and glared at me.

“Did I say that out loud?” I asked. “I meant, ‘Good job.’”

“I don’t like toying with my wife like that,” Dario said, irritated.

“I know. I’m sorry,” I said, and felt another pang of conscience over how I’d tried to manipulate Sofia.

It was an addiction of mine, apparently…

And I just didn’t know when to fucking stop.

Dario grumbled, then said, “As long as Alessandra is happy, then it’s all for a good cause, I suppose.”

“I think you mean, as long as you’re not miserable in your marriage,” I joked.

Dario shot me another look.

“Sorry, too soon,” I agreed. “Now, let’s go see our mole before Adriano does something rash.”

“You never told me how it went with Fausto’s consigliere.”

“Not nearly as well as it went with Alessandra and Caterina,” I said grimly.

I filled Dario in on Sofia as we walked down the stone steps to the basement.

At one point, Dario stopped and stared at me.

“How did you fuck up so badly?” he asked, stunned.

“You don’t have to rub salt in the wound,” I snapped.

“Well… at least we know where the leak came from. Time to plug it.”

I was overcome with guilt as I remembered Sofia’s words in Taormina:

If he dies, you motherfuckers are the ones who’ll murder him.

“Is there any way we could spare him?” I asked quietly.

Dario looked at me in surprise. “What?!”

“I just… is it absolutely necessary?”

“Why – are you thinking of using him as a double agent?”

I’d already told Sofia.

Lazaro was useless to us now.

In telling her his name, I’d wasted him as cruelly and irresponsibly as she had.

“…no… he’s already burned,” I said.

“Then you know we can’t.”

“…I know,” I muttered.

“You don’t have to be there,” Dario offered. “At the end.”

I thought of Sofia again.

You never take responsibility for the things that you do.

“No, I should,” I said.

“Adriano and I can – ”

“You’re not stepping foot outside the house, and that’s final,” I said sternly.

“Then let Adriano handle it.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said quietly, more to reassure myself than Dario. “I’ll be fine.”

And we continued our way down into the darkness.