Page 41 of Married to the Mafia

“I think that’s the warning. I reckon he’s going to snatch her.”

“Ricardo tried that, and it didn’t work out so well for him.”

“He’s still alive. Just be careful for a while, Dino. A cornered family can lash out and they know how close you’re getting to the top job.”

“I’ll bear it in mind.” I pull on the book and the secret door slides open. At once, Rose bursts out. She’s clawing at my face and screaming. Corrado dashes over, but I wave him away. I get hold of her wrists and set her on her feet. “What the fuck?” I say, shoving her into the chair behind her. “You still trying to escape?”

She glares at me. “You took advantage of me last night.”

“Takes two to tango, Rose.” I wave Corrado off, and he heads out the door with a smile on his face. I know what he’s thinking. She’s got the right amount of fire in her to be Capo dei Capi’s daughter. “If you behave, you can come to breakfast with me.”

“And if I don’t behave, I go back there? I’m not ananimal, Dino. You can’t keep me like some kind of zoo exhibit. I’m a fucking person.”

“You lashed out like an animal just now.”

“I’m sick of being down there. You can’t keep me locked in the basement. I hate it. There’s no air.”

“All right, I’ll do you a deal. You come to breakfast with me and sit politely and answer my questions. Do that and be a good girl and you won’t ever have to stay in the basement again.”

“You promise?” She looks at me like she doesn’t believe me.

“As long as you behave.”

“All right,” she says after a moment’s thought. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Hungry?”

“Maybe.”

I take her through to the dining room. The food’s been laid out for us. Bowl of fruit. Coffee. Orange juice. Bacon and eggs. Salad. She grabs a heap of bacon and the ketchup and piles her plate high. I take my coffee and sit back in the chair opposite her.

I’ve picked the seat by the window. I want to see if she tries to run for the open door. If she does, she won’t get far. I’ve got all the staff on alert and the door to the street is locked up tight. Lucky thing too, if we had an attempted break in last night.

“Don Belucci is after the chip,” I say as I put my mug down.

She looks up at me from a mouthful of bacon, chewing quickly. “So?”

“Tell me about the chip.”

“I’ve told you everything already.”

“Tell me again. From the beginning.”

“When I turned eighteen, my father gave me a letter my mom had left behind.”

“Why didn’t she give it to you herself?”

“Because she got cancer and died years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She picks up a glass and drinks the juice inside. She sets it down again and shrugs. “It was a long time ago.”

“What did the letter say?”

“It said she’d set a nest egg aside for me in a safe deposit box.”

“Which had the chip in?”

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