Page 37 of Till Death Do Us Part

Lolita came up behind Isabella, and her eyes grew wide when she saw me.

“John,” she breathed out. “What are you doing here?”

“HesaysBabbo invited him.” Isabella’s tone implied she believed I’d invited myself.

I would have, but fate was in my corner. Alina and her husband, Gino, owned popular coffee shops in town, and Gino’s brother made a deal with the wrong people. He agreed to add prize machines to the businesses. It was a new idea that pushed out slot machines—for making good money quick.

It was a buck for a chance to win free coffee, free pastries, percentages off your bill, points that went toward their app, things like that. Each machine was tailored to fit the busy establishment it went in.

When one of the guys from our crew went to Tommaso with the idea, he approved it right away. Because tailored really meant rip-off. The customers rarely won, and the shops were losingniente.

The problem with having them in the coffee shops was, it wasn’t our guys who supplied them to Gino and his brother. It was guys from Florida. And they didn’t get Tommaso’s permission first.

Since I was Tommaso’s right-hand man, he sent me to talk to Corvo about the situation. Corvo knew I was coming to discuss it with him. Even though Tommaso usually handled issues with Corvo personally, it was Thanksgiving, and Tommaso loved turkey. He was a fiend for it.

Alina and Talia came to stand behind Isabella and Lolita. They were all studying me like I was studying them.

For being sisters, not much connected them but their last name. They were all attractive, but in their own ways.

Isabella had dark brown hair, bordering on black, and deep curves. She reminded me of a mother hen.

Talia was darker, with black hair and stone-brown eyes. It was clear to see she was the bodybuilder. She hadrespect me or elsewritten all over her.

Alina had auburn hair and green eyes, and she was the thinnest. She seemed to float whichever way Isabella went.

Lolita seemed to have blonde hair naturally, but she changed colors often. She was artistic and marched to the beat of her own drum.

Then there was Roma, or Y, as they called her. She broke the mold. Her hair was on the lighter side of brown, and in the sunlight, some strands sparked gold. Her eyes were the color of milk chocolate, but they would cut a man down to size with a glance.

“If you give me a second, I’ll grab my wallet,” Alina said.

Before she could turn, Talia stopped her. “He doesn’t seem like he’s out selling candy, Lina.”

“Babbo invited him,” Lolita said, but the way she looked at me, it was clear she knew something.

“Then why is he standing outside?” Talia asked.

We all looked at Isabella.

“Babbo didn’t mention it to me.”

“Corvo didn’t invite me,” I said. “Tommaso sent me. Corvo is expecting me.”

I could tell they weren’t used to people calling their father simply by his last name, judging by the different reactions they all had.

“Dr.Corvo,” Isabella said.

She wasn’t going to correct me. In my definition, a doctor wasn’t someone who played God and picked and chose who they saved. So, by my understanding of the word, Emanuele Corvo wasn’t a doctor.

“I can’t get these things untangled!” Roma’s voice came into the hallway before Roma did, and when she finally arrived, her eyes were fixed on a string of lights wrapped around her shoulders. She was wearing a headband with antlers on it. “Isa, you’ll have to ask Carlo to—” She stopped short when she looked up and saw who her sisters were staring at. “Felice,” she blurted.

“I thought he said his name was John,” Isabella said, her voice going from suspicious to interrogation mode.

“It is, Isa,” Lolita said, her tone almost defensive. “Some people call him John. Others call him Felice. What’s the issue?”

“I feel like I’m missing something here.” Talia looked between me and Roma.

Alina nodded, but she was still staring at me. “Same. Why are we not inviting John Felice inside? If Babbo knows, let him in, Isa.”

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