Page 27 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
“Correction—you and my brother are in business. I simply run casinos. I have good connections with the authorities.Valuable ones. They’d be seriously compromised if I were to come back into the family.”
We both stand and button our jackets.
“But you’re loyal to Savero, no?” he asks.
“Of course I am.”
“You would never side with the authorities?”
“Not when it comes to family.”
Tony side-eyes me. I know what he’s thinking.
“I prefer to think of it not as hypocrisy but compartmentalizing,” I explain.
He grins. “He’s lucky to have such a loyal brother.”
I’m pleased Tony can’t see my face as I follow him to the dining room. Savero doesn’t see it that way. He puts on a good show to the rest of our “family,” but I know he’s counting the hours until I leave. He’s never particularly wanted me around, and I’ve never known why. Still, I can’t afford to hold a grudge.
“I’m lucky to have him,” I say. “He saved my life when I was eight years old. I’d never dream of being anything but loyal.”
Tony rests a hand on the back of a chair and turns to face me. “What happened?”
I push my hands into my pockets to keep them from fidgeting restlessly. Telling this story stirs up strange emotions I can’t always explain.
“We were playing down by our boathouse. Nonni, my grandfather, used to keep a boat down there, and we’d sometimes sneak on board with some sodas and hide from our father. This one evening, we were play-fighting, and I fell overboard. I wasn’t an experienced swimmer back then, so when I kicked my legs, they got caught up in one of the boat ropes, and I was pulled under. Savero dove in and cut me free.”
Tony simply stares at me. It’s a common reaction. I’ve given up trying to explain any further, because it is what it is. Saverosaved me from drowning, and I will be forever indebted to him for that.
“Good heavens. That sounds horrific.”
“Yeah, well, thankfully, I don’t remember too much about it.”
“That was some quick thinking on his part.” There’s awe in Tony’s voice, which isn’t something I hear very often when it comes to my brother. “He must have had a knife or something. Boat ropes are tough old things.”
“Hmm.” I pause. “I haven’t given much thought to the details, to be honest. I was just glad to be alive.”
“Cavolo,” Tony says quietly. “He saved your life.”
“He did, and I will never be able to repay him. We don’t often see eye to eye anymore, and we go about our businessesverydifferently, but we’re blood, and I will always support him in one way or another.”
“That makes him a very lucky man.” Tony says, a belated smile not reaching his eyes. “Please, take a seat. I’ll go see where dinner is.”
My throat is suddenly dry, and I could use a moment. “Actually, do you mind if I use your restroom?”
I follow Tony’s directions down the hall and close the restroom door behind me. Then I stare at my reflection in the mirror. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel sure of my next move, and for someone who runs casinos for a living, that’s not a good place to be.
I like Tony. He doesn’t deserve to be handing over his life’s work and his eldest daughter to someone who only has eyes for blood, gore and a quick, dirty buck. Although Father’s business ventures were hardly legal, they weren’t short-termist, and there was at least some political motivation, some rational thought, behind them. Savero is like a hyperactive kid in a china shop; he doesn’t care what he breaks, as long as he gets a kick out of itand enough money to blow on a lineup of hookers. I don’t agree with the way he does business, and neither did our father.
I splash some cold water onto my face. It isn’t just the conversation with Tony that’s turned up my inner temperature—it’s been flaring since the second his daughter opened the door. She can’t be given to my brother. He won’t have the first clue what to do with a thinking, feeling human who doesn’t expect payment for her services.
When I first met her, I thought she was meek and misguided, but the more I learn about the Castellano girl, the more I see a kind of fire behind her eyes that she can’t help but release. But then as soon as she does, she shuts down as if it’s the worst thing she could have done.
I’m under no illusions about what life is like for Cosa Nostra women. My mother was one after all. I know what the expectations are.
The Castellano girl is doing everything in her power to appear the perfect potential Mafia wife, but there’s more to her than a pretty dress and polished words. I’ve seen glimpses of her true character, and it’s only served to whet my appetite. I want to know exactly who my future sister-in-law is, and importantly, how the hell she’s going to handle my brother.
I press the towel to my face and close my eyes. An image of her walking across the bar, her white dress fluttering around her thighs, glides across my lids. I brace my hands on the vanity and stare down at the faucet. I can never conjure that image again. Not if I’m to get through the rest of my life with her as asister.
