“Gianni,” the man in the costume called toward us. “Let’s go.”

Gianni held out his hand to me. “The name’s Jack. Everyone calls me Jack, except for my dad, who sometimes calls me by my given name.”

I looked between Jack and Babbo. Babbo had an odd expression on his face, like he was waiting to see what my reaction was going to be.

“Roma.” I turned back to Jack and took his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

We shook, then Jack bounded back down the stairs, the mask under his arm, joining the three men. He waved at me as he followed behind them.

The way Babbo was looking at the two of us…

My mind snapped back to reality when I noticed Isabella waving at me.

“Are you coming down or what?” she called.

“Or what,” I said when I made my way to her. “Can I borrow your car? I think I’m probably boxed in.” I hadn’t gone anywhere since the attack. I hadn’t left the house unless someone drove me. And I knew everyone had parked behind me as they arrived for the party.

“Where are you going?” Concern weighed down the soft expression that had just been on her face.

“For a ride,” I said. “I need to get out by myself for a while.”

“Roma—”

“If you’re boxed in, I’m sure Lolita or Talia isn’t.”

My sister meant well, but I wasn’t one of her kids. She held my eyes for a few seconds, like maybe I would break and not go alone if the look she gave me was stern enough.

She threw up her hands when she realized I wasn’t budging. “My keys are on the entryway table, in the glass.”

I grabbed her keys and was about to leave out the backdoor when I noticed three of my sisters sitting at the table. Alina was bent over, digging in her bag. She sat up, handing Lolita a wedding magazine.

“We need to start planning now,” Alina said.

Talia rolled her eyes, and Alina caught it.

“If she decides on spring, it’ll be here before we know it. Venues and businesses book up.”

Was Jack meant for me or Lolita? I left out the front door, not even caring.

* * *

I held on to the wheel tighter, willing the heater to do its job faster and regretting not wearing a heavier jacket. Late October almost felt like the beginning of winter. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it started to snow, it was so cold. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had snow for Halloween in Chicago. It wasn’t normal.

What I was doing wasn’t normal either. Creeping on a man who admitted to having ties to the Outfit. Babbo purposely kept that part of his life separate. He didn’t want that kind of darkness to touch his family. But it had touched two of his daughters, and it didn’t even come at the hands of men who pushed people for a living.

Though Babbo now had ammunition as to why arranged marriages were in our best interests. Ben had proven him right. So what if the practice was archaic? He thought of it as persevering a part our heritage while also doing what was best for his daughters. He knew the families of the men he chose. He knew what the men did for a living and who knew whatever else.

Before the attack, I was all for it. It was romantic, in an old-world way, and I trusted Babbo. He’d made good choices for Isabella, Talia, and Alina.

After the attack, I didn’t know how I felt about anything. It set me in limbo, and I didn’t know which way was up or down anymore.

Halfway there, I started to chicken out.

A sign for Caffè Bar lit the darkness. I pulled in without planning to, Isabella’s tires squealing. Alina and her husband, Gino, owned a few of the coffee shops in Chicago. His brother owned ones on the outskirts. Their great-grandfather had started the company. No other coffee or customer service in the area compared. It took less than five minutes to order and get my latte.

Blowing into my cup, I continued, watching for signs as my sister’s GPS chirped in my ear. I was so close, my stomach started to churn. The exit was coming up fast, even though I was in control of the speed of the car.

I wasn’t sure if I could do it.