Page 45 of Killian

He pops his head out of his door. “Yeah. Give me a second and I’ll drive you.”

“The subway would be quicker.”

He comes out a moment later. “It’s more dangerous. Now, not only are you baby Catalini, but you’re an associate of the Westies. More targets on your back.”

I roll my eyes but keep quiet. He’s not wrong, but I don’t want to admit it.

The ride takes longer than necessary, but the ride over gives me more than enough time to prepare to face her for the first time since she left Italy.

I should really thank Bash for moving her back after I told him I couldn’t deal with her bullshit anymore.

I wasn’t sure he would agree to it. Especially since I wasn’t the nicest on the phone. I was still angry with him about Karrisa.

Still, when I let out my anger on him and demanded he take her away, he didn’t hesitate. He put her on the next flight.

Maybe you have been being too harsh on Bash all these years.

When we finally pull up to her house, I’m nervous. I shouldn’t be. My mother has had no say in my life for a long time, but the memories from my childhood will always be there.

The yelling as soon as Papa and Bash left the room. The smacks when I would do something she deemed inappropriate. Being told repeatedly that I was not doing enough. I wasn’t a good woman like Karrisa. The forced dieting because my hips and boobs were out of control.

Men don’t like all that extra meat. You need to lose some weight.

Her words filter in unbidden. This woman has terrorized me most of my life. It’s why I haven’t arranged to see her since I arrived.

Shaking off the nerves, I slide out of the car.

I can feel the anxiety rolling off of me. My hands are shaking as sweat collects on my skin. When I make it to the door, I hesitantly knock.

A man opens the door. From the quick glance at his wrist, I can tell it’s a guard. One Bash assigned.

“I’m here to see my mother,” I say, pushing past him to get inside.

He doesn’t stop me, turning back to talk to Enzo. Once down the hall, I find Mother in the living room, a few plates of food laid out along with a glass of what looks to be lemonade.

Always entertaining. Even for your child.

It’s ingrained in her. The perfect housewife for the not-so-perfect mob boss.

“Hello, Mother,” I greet when I walk into the room.

“Greer. How nice to see you. Come, take a seat.”

She stands, giving me a small smile.

When the guys stop at the opening, she turns, giving them a smile. “I set you guys up in the kitchen with a snack. I’d like to chat with my daughter alone if you don’t mind.”

Enzo catches my eye, asking permission. It’s not often, but he knows how I feel about her. I give him a reassuring smile.

Nodding, they both vacate. As soon as they are gone, the facade falls.

“Why are you here in New York?” she snips at me.

“Excuse me?” I flinch.

“What does that son of mine want now? He already took Karrisa from me. He married that slut. What plans does he have to ruin my baby?”

I meet her eyes. They are cold and vacant. They have never been warm, but it’s as if all life has drained from them.

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