He reaches into the small fridge Zeta keeps up here for nighttime bottle feeding needs and grabs a water for himself. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, wondering why I find the sight and his strong, stubbled jaw so alluring. I can’t help admiring the way his bicep flexes under his shirt as he moves either.
As he continues to drink, he appears to admire me, too. Though his coat engulfs me, his eyes drift down to my exposed legs. “I havethirst,” I comment as he raises the bottle for the last sip. He immediately starts choking.“Oh Dio, are you okay?”
He splutters, cursing quietly as he sets the bottle down. “Fine.” He reaches into the fridge, handing me a bottle after twisting off the cap for me, visibly collecting himself again. “I apologize if what I did to Giacomo upset you and your sister.”
I shrug. “You upset Maddalena. Upset is not the word I would use for me.” He regards me curiously before rubbing his hands over his eyes and muttering under his breath. Is he exhausted? Exasperated? Still thinking about spanking me for sneaking out?
“I’d like to talk about your sister, Matilde.”
I jump to the defensive. “She is a good girl. Do not blame her.”
“I’m not blaming her for anything. How long have you been looking for her?”
“When my father died and I learned about her, I started looking.”
“So that’s why you came to America?”
“Yes. My mother… mystepmother wanted me gone.”
“Even after she raised you?”
“She raised me. She kept my father’s secret. She did not love me. Once I knew, I understood. I came to find my sister… and my real mother.”
“Elena,” he says, quietly.
“You knew her,” I say, remembering what Maddalena told me the day we met.
“Not well. She worked for us.” He gives me a questioning look, one I understand.
“I know what she was,” I say, flushing. “Did you everknow herthat way?”
“No.” Relief washes over me. “Do you know what happened?”
His gaze is so intense I have to look away. “Maddalena said…” Growing tongue-tied, I switch to Italian.“She said one of the men she was with killed her. Horribly. She said you were there the night she died. She said the man who killed our mother was there because of you. Is that true?”
His eyes fill with guilt, and my heart sinks, not wanting to believe the worst even if I should.
But then, Nico explains, speaking Italian as well so I might understand him fully.“The Trio had been at war with itself for a year. He was here with his father negotiating peace. He asked me where he might find entertainment in Chicago for the night. I told him The Gentleman’s Post was our best club.”
“You did not specifically recommend my mother?”
“No. Everyone knew he was a sadist, but the Post has women who accommodate such tastes. Your mother was one of them, but I never suspected he’d take it so far or… I am sorry, Matilde. Your sister was right. It is my fault in that sense.”
My chin starts to quiver, but I fight it. “What about Maddalena?”
“I learned Elena had a daughter from the other women. I asked the widow of a soldier to be her foster mother. She agreed.”
“Mrs. Esposito?”
“Yes.”
I wonder if Nico knows Mrs. Esposito well. Her care has seemed lacking to me.
“One thing still puzzles me. If I understand things, after your abduction, you wound up in Vegas and were rescued by Alessio by coincidence. Is that correct?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Then, you were not planning revenge on his family?”