Page 91 of Cassio (Belles & Mobsters 3)

“And you! You are so beautiful,” Maria exclaimed. “You’ll be good for our Cassio.”

Áine awkwardly patted Maria’s back, her eyes darting to me like she was begging me to help her with the awkwardness. It was almost comical. Maria just liked to hug. “Umm, thank you,” she murmured.

Maria’s eyes warmed and she let poor Áine go, then hugged me again with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Cassio. Your mamma would be so happy and proud. And your nonno!”

A little pang hit my chest at the mention of my mother, but I quickly shoved it somewhere deep. It would seem only my mother and Áine were capable of hitting me right deep into my chest.

“I hope you’ll come,” I told Maria, and the second the words left my lips, her hands came to her chest.

“You want me to come?”

“Of course,” I said. “You and Angelo. I’ll have one of my men pick you up if you agree to come.”

“Sì, sì.” She clapped her hands. “Is that ok, Áine? We’ve known Cassio since he was born.”

“Of course,” Áine answered and she actually sounded sincere. Maybe she came to terms with this marriage after getting some sleep.

After a few more words were exchanged, Maria disappeared into the kitchen and I sat back down.

“She’s very nice,” Áine commented once she was gone.

I leaned back in my chair, extending my legs. “She was my mother’s best friend.” My eyes darted to the kitchen where Maria disappeared to. “My grandfather in Sicily wanted my mother to get her education in the States. So he sent her to New York. She was homesick and luckily Maria was from Sicily too so the two connected. The rest is history.”

“Somehow I have a feeling there is a lot more to that story.” Áine’s clear eyes watched me. She was right, there was more to that story. My mother met my father, fell in love, and had two children out of wedlock. Much to Nonno’s dismay.

Our father was cruel to our mother and eventually she broke. Instead of reaching out to my grandfather, seeking help, she sought her escape in suicide, leaving Luca and I in Benito’s clutches.

Our father used savagery to prepare me to rule his kingdom. To torture and mold us into his killers until he no longer needed us or wanted us. At least that was the fucking excuse he used. The truth was, he was scared of our blood ties to the DiMauro family in Sicily. He fucked with our mind, trying to make us weaker. He didn’t want us to become bigger and better than him, and he was willing to sacrifice his own sons if it meant more power.

He never counted on a daughter though. He never saw her coming, misjudged her hate. He misjudged all of our hate. Her mother committed suicide, but he handed her the rope. My mother committed suicide, but it was Benito that pushed her into it.

The bottom line was that motherfucker left a stain on all of our souls. Bianca’s, Luca’s, mine. Even Marco’s, though that fucker was beyond saving. He had gone off the deep end a long time ago.

Not a moment too soon, a large pizza was delivered to our table. The topic of my father wasn’t a welcomed one.

“Hope this is enough.” I changed the subject to food at hand.

Áine’s eyes bulged. “Jesus, all this?”

“You said you are hungry.”

“Yes, but for two slices tops. I hope you brought your appetite,” she joked, glancing my way.

“I have. Luca eats one of these all by himself.”

She chuckled. “Why am I not surprised?”

I had to admit, this lunch date was going even better than I hoped for. Áine was easy to talk to, and I learned from Nonno that it was a key to making a marriage work. It was only thanks to him that Luca and I didn’t turn into total detached sociopaths, like Marco.

My phone buzzed and I checked the message. It was from Nico. He and Bianca were coming tomorrow. I wanted to introduce them all to Áine before the wedding. After all, they were family.

“Everything okay?” she asked and I set my phone aside.

“Yes, my sister and her family are coming to New York tomorrow,” I told her. For a fraction of a second, I debated whether I should tell her who my sister was but decided against it. I didn’t want Áine to think Bianca was any different from when she knew her before. “I want you to meet them over dinner. Your parents too, of course. Her girls will like you.”

“The girls?”

“Her twin daughters. They are quite something.”

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