Page 55 of The Reaper's Bride
It’s just like my father leaving me with twice the amount of work to handle while he skips out of town. I swear all he does lately is make threats. I’m sure he’ll be sucking up to Don Vicini while he's here though. Fucking New York, they act like they’re the bluebloods of the mafia when their hands are every bit as dirty as ours.
After our flight lands, Rocco places his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve arranged a car for us,” he tells me with a smile which turns my tired edginess into a different variety of alertness. My uncle is silent for a change. Something feels…off.
“I’m meeting Armando and have my own ride arranged.”
“Are you certain, Alessio? We’re all going to the same place. You’ll see your sweet little bride soon enough,” Rocco adds.
That prickly sensation at the base of my skull, the one I first recognized as intuition many years ago, has me refusing them again. Maybe it’s nothing but an offer to ride together. Maybe Enzo and Rocco think eliminating me and disposing of my body in someone else’s territory means they can take over Vegas someday. Or, maybe my father really is that angry with me and thinks I’m dumb enough to get into a car with them when all my instincts are screaming at me not to.
“I’m certain.” With that, I turn away from them in the crowded airport, knowing they’re not ballsy enough to attack me in such a public place.
I find the locker Carlo texted me the code for and remove the waiting handgun, quickly tucking it under my jacket. At least myfuture brother-in-law is a man of his word. “Where are you?” I ask Armando when he answers his mobile a few minutes later.
“Watching the girls pretend to eat before we leave for the audition. I swear, you’d think all three were facing a firing squad when it’s Frankie who has to perform. Well, that and Sofia’s getting married tomorrow to a man she doesn’t want. I think Caterina’s just nervous on behalf of them both.”
A longing twists inside my chest hearing my wife’s name. I miss her. I never thought I would. I never shared my bed before I married but a little over a month of marriage and I’ve become addicted to having her by my side when I wake. I should’ve called her back first. I’d only called Armando because I need a ride.
“Is there time for you and the girls to swing by and pick me up on your way?” I don’t particularly care about watching a bunch of singing, not even Frankie, nor do I want to share my wife’s attention with anyone else, but I want to be with her enough that I’ll gladly agree to all of it.
“You want us to drive to JFK to get you, then back to a place that’s ten minutes away from where we are when your cousin is supposed to check-in in less than thirty minutes for her audition?” Armando asks, incredulously. “Have you ever looked at a map of this fucking city or heard of the concept of traffic, Alessio?”
I roll my eyes, knowing he’s right. “Fine. I’ll get a cab and meet you there.”
I hang up and my phone rings a minute later. Smiling like a goddamn idiot, I answer. “Good morning, wife. I apologize for not calling you back yester-”
“Don’t come to the audition, Alessio. Frankie’s nervous enough as it is. I can text you and let you know how she does. You’ll be bored. It’s… don’t worry about joining us. ”
It’s not that she didn’t return my greeting first.
It’s not that she sounds nervous.
It’s not even that she doesn’t want me to come join them.
It’s all three things together making that prickly sensation at the base of my skull return.
“I want to see you and know you’re safe.”
“Don’t be silly. Armando will be there. Sofia has two Vicini guards with her and Carlo is coming to watch, too. We’ll be fine. Juilliard is not a place the Bratva hangs around, right? I’ll… I’ll look forward to seeing you at our hotel room afterwards. I missed you last night.”
The last was spoken in a whisper, and I can clearly picture the way her cheeks pinkened as she said it. “Very well. I’ll see you later. Tell Frankie-”
The call ends abruptly before I can finish the sentence. My bad feeling about all this increases. A cab pulls up to the sidewalk where I’m standing and I get in. “Lincoln Center Plaza. Quickly.” I pass him two hundreds and he peels out. Fuck going to the hotel first. I’m going straight to my wife.
Fifty-two minutes later, the cab stops and my mobile is buzzing again – Armando. “Something’s happened, Alessio.”
“Caterina?” I croak, wondering if my heart will stop beating any second now and wondering how many I’ll murder if something has happened to her. I could wipe out everyone in Manhattan, and it still wouldn’t satisfy my wrath or fill this widening hole in my chest.
“She’s safe. It’s Sofia.”
My heart keeps beating despite the fact I care about my half-sister. Only Caterina could end me by being… “Spit it out, Armando,” I bark. “Is she alive?”
“Yes, but she’s gone missing.”
“Tell me everything.”
His everything isn’t much. Armando was focused on protecting my wife as he should be. Carlo was busy watchingFrankie sing, and Sofia suddenly said she needed to use the restroom, saying she felt nauseous. The guard who followed her didn’t get suspicious enough to act until she’d been in there for fifteen minutes. A window opening onto an inner courtyard had been jimmied and she was gone.
But, Sofia, our little drama queen, left a note: