Page 104 of The Deadly Candies

“Kathy?”

Matteo wiped a hand over his face, exhaling through his nose.“She’s here. José confirmed it. He spoke to Debbie before they left to go meet them at Kathy’s house. They’re all at her house now—her, that grandmother, the whole damn family. Celebrating.”

Carmelo’s breath left him in a rush. For a moment, the world tilted—she was here.After months of stolen letters, whispered phone calls in the dead of night, after all the times he’d traced her name on single sheets of paper like a prayer—she was really here.His feet moved before his mind could catch up, carrying him toward the door like a man possessed.

Matteo caught his arm, fingers digging in. “Tell me you ain’t that crazy. Tell me.”

Carmelo’s pulse roared in his ears.“I just gotta see her. Even if it’s just from the damn sidewalk.”

Matteo shook him, hard. “Unless you got X-ray vision like Superman, you ain’t seeing through her daddy’s walls. And Henry? He’ll have every corner from here to Harlem watched for Italians. Think, Melo.”

Carmelo dragged in a shuddering breath. Then, sudden and fierce, he yanked Matteo into a crushing hug, his face buried in his brother’s shoulder. Matteo stiffened—physical affection wasn’t their way—but Carmelo didn’t care.

“Grazie, fratello,”he muttered, voice thick with emotion.

Matteo shoved him off. “We don’t have time for this lovey shit Melo. Did you not hear DeMarco? We ain’t won a damn thing.”He ran his hand back through his hair. “Ma and Nino still at Ms. Romero’s?”

Carmelo nodded. “Gladys said yes. Slim’s here, so Pa’s meeting is underway while Gladys cooks and starts serving them food. The whole crew’s coming.”

“Perfetto.”Matteo started toward the hall where his father’s ‘sitdowns’ typically happened at a long table that could seat twenty-two. Determination hardened his jaw. “Then let’s do it.”

Carmelo blocked his path. “We just walk in? No plan?”

“We’re his sons. We don’t need a fucking invitation,” said Matteo.

“Wait—”Carmelo grabbed his wrist. “Pa ain’t stupid. If we both come in hot, he’ll smell the setup. We gotta ease into this. Make ithisidea.”He lowered his voice.“You go to the meeting. Be the golden boy. Promise him you’ll reel me in, get me back in line.’ That’ll play right into his ego.”

Matteo studied him, then nodded slowly.“Smart. And you?”

Carmelo forced a grin, rolling his shoulders like he hadn’t a care in the world.“Gonna check in with Caesar at Sal’s Gym. Get my leg back in shape before my first fight.”

Matteo tossed him the car keys.“Stop by Romero’s after. See if Ma needs a ride home.”

“Got it.”Carmelo snatched his cap off the hook—then, on impulse, grabbed Matteo’s leather jacket instead of his own wool coat. The buttery hide smelled of his brother’s cologne and gun oil.

Matteo raised an eyebrow.“My jacket?”

Carmelo winked.“Luckier than mine.”He didn’t miss the way Matteo’s eyes narrowed, but his brother let it slide, already striding toward their father’s meeting.

The second the door shut, Carmelo bolted.

Outside, the Brooklyn night was clear. He slid behind the wheel of Matteo’s DeSoto, the engine growling to life. The gym? Caesar?Fuck that.He had one destination.

Harlem.

Kathy.

He didn’t care about turf wars, his father’s schemes, or the blood that might spill if he was caught on the wrong side of 125th Street.

Hehadto see her.

Even if it killed him.

* * *

"I guessI'll go get ready for bed," she said, lingering in the kitchen doorway.

Her mother's knowing grin made her feel twelve again. "Don't you dare climb in that bed 'ready to roll.' Shower properly—I put fresh towels in there. Claudia and I are gonna stay up cooking Big Mama's favorites,” said her mama.

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