Page 104 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

She exhaled heavily into my ear. “It’s okay. He always tries to protect me, too. Tell me, are you in love with him?”

I stared at the wooden desk, tracing the grooves in the grain with my finger. I wasn’t sure how to answer. Love? I liked him, sure. And I did get a fluttering, sick feeling in my stomach when I thought about him.

But love was something unquantifiable, a foundation of feeling that built over time as two people grew closer and shared their lives. Giacomo and I barely knew one another.

Ugh, why did I pick up the phone? Hesitantly, I said, “I’m very fond of him. But we’re getting off topic. Who told you about the marriage?”

“You’refondof him? You make him sound like a puppy.”

“Well, we haven’t known each other very long. Please, Viviana. How did you learn of the marriage?”

“I have friends here. They talk to people from the outside and get news. I’m not completely isolated.”

In here. From the outside. Was she in prison? In hiding?

“I just wish he would’ve told me,” she continued. “We used to share everything.”

Instantly, I felt terrible. My own sisters would be equally hurt when they learned of my marriage, so I rushed to explain. “It’s not what you think. We were forced to marry.” When she fell silent for a long minute, I thought maybe we’d disconnected. “Hello?”

“I don’t understand,” she said. “He didn’t wish to marry you?”

“No, he definitely did not. Let’s just say neither of us were given a choice.”

“Does this lack of choice have to do with me?”

I inhaled sharply. The answer snapped into place like two puzzle pieces. The leverage Virga had over Giacomo?Vivianawas that leverage. It had to be. He never mentioned his sister, yet they clearly got along. She said he always protected her. Marrying me to protect his sister fit with the man I knew, the man I cared about.

“It does, doesn’t it?” She sounded worried, the rate of her breathing increasing. “Mamma mia, I have ruined his life—”

“Stop.” I kept my tone gentle yet firm. “None of this is your fault. Take a deep breath. Everything is fine and your brother is handling it.”

“No, everythingismy fault. It’s always my fault.”

“It’s not, I promise. Don’t give it another thought. Your brother and I are making the best of our marriage. We’re . . . happy.”

It wasn’t a lie. At the moment I didn’t hate being here. Yes, I needed to get back to my father, but it wasn’t torture being given the best orgasms of my life by a well-built man.

Viviana’s voice trembled as she said, “You are only saying this to make me feel better. You’re a good person, Emma.”

“It’s the truth, Viviana. I really hope we can meet in person soon.”

“Impossible, but it would have been nice. I’m sure I would’ve liked you.”

Why was she speaking in the past tense? “It’s not impossible. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come see you.”

“Take care of my brother, Emma. He’s a good man.”

Then the line went dead.

I stared at the receiver, almost willing her to return, before I slowly hung up. Something about the last part of the exchange really bothered me. The things she said, the way she spoke in the past tense. She sounded on the verge of tears by the end, and I hated that I’d upset her.

Why hadn’t Giacomo told her about the marriage? If he had, then Viviana wouldn’t have drawn her own conclusions and been so upset by our exchange.

I had to tell him what happened. He needed to explain everything to his sister.

Stupidly, I realized I didn’t have his contact in my phone. There hadn’t been the need to call him before now.

Hurrying from the office, I raced to the kitchen, where Sal was frying something on the stove. “Sal!”

---