Page 93 of Cruelest Contract
I duck into the open window. “I know the smell of Enzo’s fettuccine alfredo.”
He grunts and cuts the engine. “How’s married life?”
“No complaints,” I reply. I take stock of the restless way he drums his ringed fingers on the steering wheel. He’s definitely got something on his mind.
He peers at the cabin. “You’ve got yourself a nice girl there.”
“Yes, I do. And she’s waiting for me so why don’t you just spit out the bad news?”
He flashes a wry smirk but then sighs. “Your cousin Nico just gave us a heads up that Vittorio Messina flew into New York today. He’s planning to stay all week to visit with his sister.”
That’s a name I could do without hearing ever again. But the travel plans of Sicily’s most infamous mobster don’t interest me.
“I guess everyone’s entitled to a vacation. Should we send him tickets to a Broadway show? Or how about a Statue of Liberty snow globe?”
Sonny snorts with laughter but then his mouth flattens into a serious line. “Your father suggests that you ought to fly out there and smooth things over with him after that fucking bullshit last year.”
Yeah, ‘that fucking bullshit’ refers to Vittorio Messina’s discovery that one of his men had been bribed into handing over information about his boss.
We’re the ones that bribed him.
My father set this plan in motion. I had no idea until the whole disaster blew up and then we had a very tense argument behind closed doors. Truth be told, there was more than one topic my father and I were arguing about during that time.
Sonny notes my hesitation. “Look, I offered to go instead. I wouldn’t even mind paying a visit to the Big Apple.”
“I appreciate that but you and I both know how it goes.”
“Right,” Sonny says.
Because when Cassio Tempesta ‘suggests’ that you’re going to do his bidding, there’s really no balking. And my father is still the head of the family. If I openly defy him and refuse an order, we will all look weak.
“When do I have to go?” I ask, already feeling hollow at the idea of leaving Cecilia.
“Tomorrow morning,” Sonny says. “Your dad wants you to bring one of your brothers along. He says you can pick which one.”
“Got it.” I reach in and heave the box of food out of the passenger seat.
“Sorry, Julian,” Sonny mutters. He stares straight ahead, frowning at the steering wheel. That’s as close as he’ll get to saying that he has any doubts about Cass Tempesta’s leadership.
“Thanks for bringing dinner.” I tap the roof of the vehicle and step back.
Sonny promptly drives away. A heavy rock of dread sinks lower in the pit of my stomach.
Now I’m left with the extremely unwanted task of breaking the bad news to my wife.
After tonight, our honeymoon is over.
18
CECILIA
Ican’t shake the feeling that I’m trespassing as I sit here fretting in Julian’s room without Julian.
I’ll need to get over it. This isourroom now. Julian said I could take my pick of a different bedroom but I didn’t want to force him out of the room he grew up in.
Leaving the honeymoon cabin was a huge letdown. We were supposed to stay for a week and I’m still disappointed. Julian didn’t explain why he had to fly to New York but he took Fort and a few of Sonny’s men with him. He kissed me goodbye yesterday morning and handed over his black Amex card. I’m supposed to go shopping and redecorate however I please.
Last night I didn’t sleep well and I woke up with the sun. The window shutters are now open and from where I sit on the bed, I see a very similar view to the one I had in the room down the hall. I try to imagine Julian here in this same spot as a child. Then as a teenager. Then as a young man.
