Page 20 of Mafia Priest

“As much as they can be. Yet surely you see why he wouldn’t view them that way. But the point is that there arerules. Rules Dad broke. In his arrogance, he knocked up the wrong girl—his consigliere’s daughter.”

She stares at me, eyes wide, but says nothing. Bracing myself for her disgust, I continue.

“Anyway, she was newly married and content to pass the child off as her husband’s. Terrified of my father, she swore not to tell a soul what he’d done. Suffice to say, Dad wasn’t happy. If the truth got out, his authority would be compromised. And he didn’t want the loose end of a bastard—his words, not mine.”

“But how did they know the baby wasn’t her husband’s?”

“Timing.” I shrug. “He was away on a job when she conceived. Sure, she could have fooled him despite that, but Dad wasn’t inclined to take any chances. Or to get his hands dirty. That fell to me.”

She reaches up and strokes my face. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

I’ve only told the full story to two people—one being the bishop who ordained me. There’s more than shame behind my silence. But if I can’t trust Bianca, whocanI trust?

“I held a gun to her head,” I say, voice hard. Because even if I enjoyed aspects of my job, the affair with Marissa held no pleasure. “I scared the poor girl senseless, forced her to write a letter saying she was running away. All part of Dad’s plan. But I couldn’t carry out the hit, so I took her to a convent, instead. I confessed everything—including Dad’s order to kill her. I begged the nuns to keep her, against her will if necessary, and… they agreed.”

“Is that… is that what you plan to do with me? Imprison me in a convent for the rest of my life to keep me safe from Guido?”

“God no! I just need you and your sister to stay there until it’s safe. And Marissa wasn’t imprisoned for life. I was going to find a way to get her out of there, convince her to start over, after the baby was born. But I never got a chance. She died in childbirth.”

She stares at me as she processes this. “You did the best you could in an impossible situation.”

“Have you not heard a goddamn word I’ve said?” Gripping her arms, I fight the urge to shake her, to make hersee. “I terrorized, abducted, and imprisoned a young girl because I was too afraid to stand up to my father.”

“He’d have just had someone else do it.” She shrugs. “You saved that baby’s life. Like how the huntsman inSnow Whitesaved hers by bringing the queen a deer’s heart.”

“This isn’t a fairytale, princess.”

She shakes off my grip and stands. “You’re right, and I’m not a princess—nor a princessa—even if everyone has called me that my whole life.”

Walking over to the desk, she picks up the silver frame from the floor. Rising to my feet, I follow her, in disbelief at her calm acceptance of my darkest secret.

But then guilt knifes me. Marissa isn’t actually my darkest secret. Yet as much as Iwantto be totally open with Bianca, recounting that story reminded me exactly how evil men like my father and Mancini are.

If confess that I was such a good capo becauseI enjoyed it, I’ll lose her trust. And if I’m going to save her, she needs to trust me. Her life matters more than honesty.

She stares at the photograph, then says, “Dinner will be soon. Frankie must be looking for me.”

I come up behind her. The glass is shattered. Fuck.

“No, he won’t,” I reassure her. “I spoke with him last night. He’s on our side. He’s outside this room as we speak.”

But she’s not listening. I watch, puzzled, as she stares at the photo a moment longer, frowning.

“Angel, listen, we—”

I’m interrupted by a knock on the door. “Father?”

Bianca’s eyes meet mine. “Let Frankie in. I need to talk to him.”

“Fine. But we need to be on the same page. Play the part of the petulant mafia princess at dinner, okay? But nottoopetulant. When I tell you about the convent, you’re going to allow me to persuade you.”

She shakes her head. “No.”

I grip her shoulders. “Do I have to spell it out, love? You won’t be safe until your grandfather and Lombardi are out of the picture. And that process will be… messy. I need you and Elise in another country when the shit hits the fan, but it will be temporary. I swear.”

She glances at the photo again. “If I promise to go, will you promise not to kill Nonno?”

The doorknob rattles. “Don’t make me get the key, Father.”

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