Chapter 22
Daisy Peonia Mary Parker
July, 2025
Mississippi, USA
My plan worked. I managed to convince Aunt Lizzie and Olivia that going to Italy with ‘Pasquale Carmelo Filiberto’ was what I wanted most. The downside was that now I had a mobster watching my every move with murder in his eyes.
I was sitting at the kitchen table. He gave me a tiny cup of extremely strong coffee, which I didn't know whether I loved or hated, and told me that if I wanted something to eat, I should go to the refrigerator and make it myself.
Of course, I had no plans to touch anything.
I sipped the coffee, still feeling his sour gaze on me, and focused on the four solid wooden boards that made up the table—the knots in the pale, raw wood. I wondered if my coffin wouldbe like that, because that’s where I was going to end up: inside four planks of wood. Or maybe I would end up as a crispy barbecue. I hadn’t worked out the details of my funeral yet.
“‘Pasquale’?” The deep voice startled me. I looked at him immediately, still standing under the archway leading to a room, arms crossed in front of his chest and one shoulder leaning against the threshold. “‘Bull’s sperm collector’?”
I bit the inside of my cheeks.
“I thought it suited you.” I lied, the urge to laugh bubbling in my chest. “Besides, it worked. They believed it.”
“Hmm...” He grunted, and something in his expression told me exactly how this would end. It didn't look promising. “You're going to be around for a little longer, Signorina Parker, so I recommend you control those humorous outbursts.”
I snorted, incredulous at what I was hearing. “Is masculinity so fragile in Italy that you can't take a joke?”
He widened his eyes. Oh, no...
“I believe, Signorina Parker, that with everything your death involves, you won't want to test the limits of my patience.” His voice came out in a low growl. “Right?”
I wrinkled my nose, pushing the coffee cup away from me.
“Fine...” I muttered, remembering that the lives of those I loved were also at stake. “When are we leaving for Italy?” I asked, wanting to push any ominous thoughts out of my mind.
“At the end of the day.” He sighed. “If you’re done eating,andiamo.”
“Uh... Where to?”
“To your room, or do you think I'm going to let you roam around the house?”
My face scrunched up and I groaned softly, reluctantly getting up and walking toward him.
“Am I going to be locked up all day when we get to Italy too?”
As soon as I got close, he closed his hand around my arm again and I had to bite my tongue. It hurt like crazy where he grabbed me, but I didn't want to admit it.
“No,” he replied. “You'll be able to walk around the villa freely. You can even go into Reggio Calabria if you want.”
“Reggio Calabria?” I had heard of Rome, Milan, Sicily, Florence, but that name was completely unfamiliar to me.
He grunted something in Italian under his breath before explaining, “It's a coastal city in southern Italy.”
“Is that the area your mafia controls?”
His hand tightened its grip on me and dragged me up the stairs. "My ‘mafia’ doesn't control any cities. We live in Castello dell'Fiero, where we run our operations. It's a village half an hour from Reggio Calabria. But no, Signorina Parker, we don't control cities.“ He growled as if I had insulted his ancestors. ”What we have there are friends, associates, many eyes throughout the region. If you try to escape, you will be captured or killed on my behalf. And if you try to go to the police, you might be surprised to find out that I give very generous gifts to the officers in the region."
He threw me into the room, hard enough to send me crashing onto the bed. I sat up and glared at him, my arms throbbing where his hands had been.
“What will happen to me while… while I’m still alive?”