Page 99 of Assassin's Obsession

However, even though she catches me right in the feels, it doesn't always work. Like when she tried to get me to quit dancing at Pitiful Princess. It was the one way I could make enough money to support us and still go to school, so I refused to get a different job.

Just like then, the only way to reach my mom is to be as open as she is.

"Mom, I want you to meet my soulmate." I take Angelo's hand, and he immediately laces our fingers together. "This is Angelo Caruso."

Chapter 27

CANDI

Mom's mouth goes slack in stunned surprise.

Angelo is practically vibrating with that emotion he claims only I bring to him. Joy.

His hand squeezes mine. "You said it. You can't take it back."

"I don't want to." If that makes me as delusional as he is, at least we're living in that dream together.

"Candi, a man without a soul can't be your soulmate. I didn't want to have to tell you this, but Mr. Bianchi told me––"

"I don't care what my biological father has to say," I cut my mom off quick. "His opinions are of no value to me."

"It's not an opinion. It's a fact. Angelo Caruso is the nephew of the former godfather."

I look to Angelo for verification.

He nods.

"Even though he was more than ten years younger than his cousin, because of who Angelo's maternal grandfather is, he was supposed to become the next don in his family." Mom says the words like she's imparting a terrible secret.

I'm not appalled. But I am curious. "Why are you Severu's head enforcer? Is that a role for him to groom you to take over when you are older?"

I don't understand how the mafia works, but I watched the Godfather franchise, just like everyone else.

"No. I will never be don and Severu will be the godfather until his death many decades from now."

"Oh. So why does it matter?" I ask my mom. "I'd think you'd be happier he's not that high up in the hierarchy."

Angelo shifts his leg. Only a tiny bit, but there's something about what I just said that agitates him. What?

Mom doesn't notice. "Because ofwhyat the age of ten those plans were abandoned."

"Why?" I ask Angelo, not mom.

"Both my grandfather and my uncle decided my cousin Henrico would make a better don and potential godfather after all."

"Tell her why," mom practically dares him.

He looks at me with his unfathomable gray gaze. "They considered my inability to emotionally connect with others too big a detriment."

Mom's expression isn't one of victory, but pity.

For me.

I don’t feel pitiful though.

Knowing Angelo isn't expected to lead the mafia someday is more of a relief than anything. I would make a terrible godfather-ess. Is that even a word?

"If you were a don, we couldn't be together, could we?" I ask.

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