Page 125 of Assassin's Obsession

Big Sal looks at me critically. "What expression?"

"He looks worried." Miceli nods toward me, taking a sip of his water.

We don't drink wine with our meals away from home. I don't drink it at all. A second's hesitation caused by a more relaxed demeanor from alcohol could lead to my death, or someone else's.

The consigliere shrugs like he doesn't see my concern.

Miceli knows me better than Big Sal though.

"Are you really that nervous about Candi being at the club?" Salvatore asks. "You watched her dance there for months without intervening."

Yes, I'm fucking worried. "I hadn't claimed her before. Now everyone knows she's mine."

Salvatore nods his understanding. "No one thought a stripper you were probably banging but didn't bother to date would be a way to get to you."

"Now she's living at your house." Big Sal butters a piece of bread, ignoring his plate of steamed broccoli and grilled chicken breast.

His wife has him on a heart-healthy diet, which he apparently isn't impressed by.

"Our home," I correct. "Candi's on the deed."

She still doesn't know that. I'm trying to ease her into things after the whole checking account thing. She took the news about the trust fund for Cookie's education much better, but that might be because she was still in shock over her newfound wealth.

Severu scrutinizes me like he's looking for something. "How's that going?"

He means living with my new family. "Mostly good. Meshing two lives can be a challenge, but compromise is the key to doing it successfully."

"You've been reading that book on relationships again." Nerissa laughs.

Not sure what she finds funny about me reading a book, I say, "I only read it once."

"You keep quoting from it and we're going to think you've gone soft," Big Sal admonishes me. "I never read a book on relationships and my marriage is fine."

Salvatore shakes his head. "Mamma is the reason your marriage is a good one."

"I won't deny that. Your mother knows what it means to be a true mafia wife." Big Sal leans back in his chair and pats his still flat stomach complacently.

This meeting is a strategic counsel of war for family only. Severu and Miceli are brothers. Salvatore and Nerissa are Big Sal's children and their cousins. I'm the only one here not related by blood or formal adoption.

Not even Severu's council of two consiglieres are here.

No security team are in the room with us, and it has been swept for bugs and cameras. As an extra precaution there's a localized signal jammer. The walls are too thick for distance surveillance equipment, which isn't very effective in a busy city like The Big Apple anyway.

"Our women don't make us soft. They make us more determined to stay on top so we can protect them," Severu says, his expression one that would frighten most men.

"True that," Miceli agrees.

"Stop talking like a teenager," Big Sal admonishes. "You are a don now."

Miceli's face goes blank and he stares his uncle down. "Be careful howyoutalk tome. I would hate to have to cut out your tongue. It would piss off Aunt Ilaria and make it hard for you to do your job advising me as my consigliere."

Big Sal rolls his eyes, clearly not worried, but he inclines his head in acknowledgment of his don's words.

"Your mother is in New York?" Severu asks me, obviously ready to move onto the reason for the meeting.

How to respond to his Sicilian counterpart's reaction to Severu being named godfather.

"Maybe."

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