“I already tried marriage. Did I tell you Russo suggested I could marry Margareta’s sister, Livia as a possible way to ‘maintain our bond’ at her funeral?At her funeral.And the girl’s only sixteen for fuck’s sake."
"Sick fucker."
"Yes. I told him if he liked I could make it a double funeral. He hasn’t spoken to me again, not even to ask after his grandchildren… not that I’ll ever let them near him or that family.”
“Okay, fine. A nanny. Matilde’s no assassin, Nico.”
“She could spy on me. And the children are incapable of protecting themselves.”
“Then dispose of her.” I raise my eyebrows at his terminology, and Dante chuckles. “See? You have a soft spot when it comes to girls. Amadeo may follow in your footsteps, but Lucia will rule this household someday.”
“IfI have a soft spot for girls, it’s for the girls in our family, nothing more.”
“Matilde's very pretty.”
She’s gorgeous, full of fire, clutching her small suitcase like a shield as she stood up to a man like me.
“She’stoopretty," I argue, "And she’s a child.”
“She’ll be of age soon, and her curves aren’t remotely childlike.”
“Dante, I have enough evil notions in my head without stooping to chasing teenage girls.”
“You didn’t chase teenage girls even when you were a teenager,” he snorts.
“Speaking of evil notions, tell me you’ve stopped stalking the De Luca girl.”
My brother’s lips twist downward. “She’s nothing but a curiosity to me.”
“Sure.”
“How long does Father have?” he asks, ignoring my sarcasm.
“A year at most. Probably less,” I reply. In addition to the emphysema, they found lung cancer.
“Don’t expect me to cry any tears over the bastard.”
Neither of us will. He prepared us well for life in the mafia, but he was hardly Father of the Year material. “Cat will shed tears for us both,” I sigh.
“When do we tell her?” Dante asks, remorse flickering in his dark eyes. He shares my hatred of anything that causes our little sister sadness.
“Father doesn’t want it known yet, and she’s suffering enough because of me.”
“How many times do I have to remind you that Father was planning to give her to Sil, Jr. before you killed him? If he hadn’t killed the whore that night-”
“Alessio hasn’t forgotten his brother,” I retort.
“Let’s kill him in New York then.”
“It’s not impossible, but we’d have to be certain Cat was safe, and Don Vicini and his sons might take exception to such a move. Withevery shift of power, there’s upheaval. I want New York on my side when I step into our father’s place.”
"Afraid of a fight?"
"No, but I don't want my children to be orphans before they can even walk. Do you?"
Annoyed, Dante stands to leave. “In that case, rather than hunting for rats in your nursery, I’d be more concerned with the snakes in our garden. Ritchie Barzetti is a fool, but that brother of his…”
“Antonio, yes.” I’ll be keeping an eye on him. One of our captains, he’s always in our father’s ear and kissing his ass. His son is every bit as devious, and his wife, Cosima, is no better. She was good friends with Margareta, two peas in a pod. “The only Barzetti to attend the wedding was Ritchie,” I mention to Dante. "I never got the impression Antonio would mourn his big brother for long."