Page 142 of Married with Mayhem

I’m barely off the phone with my mother before Sabrina’s mother comes running in here. She’s early. We weren’t expecting the Sicilian crew to show up for another couple of hours.

Sabrina’s mother has been crying. She continues to cry as she holds her daughter and inspects the bandages. Sabrina does her best to assure her mother that she’s recovering just fine but the tears continue to fall.

They deserve some time alone together so I back up into the hallway. And that’s where I nearly collide with Vittorio Messina and his scowling entourage.

Sabrina’s uncle throws me a rather severe look and bypasses me to peer into the hospital room.

“Uncle Vittorio!” She waves at him while her mother keeps covering her face with kisses. “Thank you for bringing Mama here.”

“Hello, Sabrina,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

She makes a face. “I’m sturdier than I look. But I don’t recommend getting shot. It’s not any fun.”

“I know,” he says and pulls back from the doorway. I could swear I caught a hint of warmth on his face while he was talkingto his niece but now that I’m in his line of sight again, his gaze hardens.

Can’t say I blame the guy. His niece took a bullet because of me.

“I’m sorry,” I say to him. “I’m deeply sorry that I couldn’t keep her safe. The failure is mine.”

He’s still just staring. If he’s got any ideas about kidnapping Sabrina and carrying her back to Sicily, he’s going to have one hell of a fight on his hands.

“Uncle Vittorio,” calls Sabrina. “Be nice to my husband or else.”

His mouth twitches but his harsh gaze doesn’t waver. “Come with me, Monte.”

His team of minions begin to follow. He waves them off. One of them looks especially familiar. I remember exchanging heated glares with him the day of my wedding.

He’s not glaring now. He won’t even look me in the eye. I know a nervous man when I see one.

The hospital isn’t exactly the ideal spot for a private mafia conference. I assume Vittorio is going to lead me outside. Maybe we’ll have another awkward chat in whatever luxury vehicle is currently shepherding him around.

But no, he’s content to lead me to the cafeteria. At the tail end of lunchtime, it’s far from empty but no one pays us the slightest attention as we occupy a table in the back.

Vittorio must be uncomfortably hot, wearing that dark suit in late August. Maybe that’s all he has. I’ve never seen him dressed in anything else. The idea of Sabrina’s uncle wearing a pair of jeans and a baseball cap seems as likely as a lion wearing sunglasses. Some things just don’t happen in nature.

He waits with that same stoic expression. Finally, I realize I’m the one who is expected to speak first.

“The gunman is dead.”

“So I’ve heard,” he says.

“He wasn’t trying to shoot Sabrina. He was trying to shoot me.”

“I heard that too.”

“I knew him. I grew up with him. I forgot he was part of Lombardo’s crew so I’m sure he blamed me for the loss of his boss. But his grudge was also more personal.”

Vittorio shrugs, unsurprised. “That happens.”

“Look, I know that I’m the reason why Sabrina is in a hospital bed. And I can’t undo all the shit I’ve done before. But this was a wake up call. Nothing matters to me if I don’t have Sabrina. I’m finished with anything that puts her in danger or takes me away from her.”

At last, there’s a flash of surprise on his face. He quickly gets it under control.

“You really think you can just walk away?” he says.

“I never accepted an offer to make my loyalty official. My family is respected and liked. I’ve always kept my mouth shut and I always will. Yes, I think I can just walk away.”

He mulls this over. “That might be true,” he says. “Frankly, I don’t care what you do. My only concern is what’s best for my niece.”

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