Page 113 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

“Jesus, Emma. Why didn’t you call me or Frankie? We could have stopped this.”

“Not without putting everyone at risk. I wasn’t going to endanger you or Enzo or his family. What about your step kids? Frankie’s kids? I wasn’t going to start a war over this.”

“This? It’s your life we’re talking about. You’re family—and we protect family.”

“You know that isn’t always possible. Fausto’s first wife died in a war. I couldn’t live with myself if I was responsible for someone getting hurt.”

“So you took it all on your shoulders? That’s incredibly stupid—and you know it.”

Anger sparked deep in my belly. I was tired of defending myself to my sisters all the time. “I’m not incompetent or stupid. And I’m tired of you and Frankie thinking you know so much more than me, like you have all this life experience that I don’t. I’ve seen people die, Gia. Not on TV or in a theoretical sense, but in real life. I held their hands at the hospital as they took their last breath. I’ve seen gunshot wounds and stabbings and drug overdoses. I was kidnapped by Russian sex traffickers and kept in a closet for days. I am not some silly stupid child, despite what you and Frankie think. Stop belittling me!”

Her lips parted in surprise. “I don’t think you’re silly or stupid, Em. But you do put yourself into danger without considering the consequences. Like getting kidnapped by Russian sex traffickers when you flew to Naples to find me.”

I knew she was going to throw that back in my face. “And the only reason they found me was becauseyoukept calling me!”

She deflated a bit as she regarded me carefully. “I didn’t mean to belittle you. I’m sorry if you feel that way. I just . . . feel responsible for you. If something were to happen to you, I would completely lose it.”

I reached over and squeezed her arm. “I know, because I’d feel the same. But you can’t protect me forever. And you’ve been gone almost a full year. You can’t criticize how I’m dealing with Papà and Toronto anymore. You’re not there.”

“Fair enough. But I don’t like that you’ve been keeping all this in, dealing with it on your own.”

“It seemed easier than asking for help and involving everyone. And isn’t that what I always do in our family?”

Gia winced because she knew I was right. “Emma, this isn’t like me asking you to take my finals for my junior year. This is marriage to a gross old mobster. Frankie and I never wanted that for you.”

“He’s not gross. Or old.”

Gia’s eyes narrowed and she let out an irritated huff. “Oh, I see. Does this mean you actuallylikehim?”

I couldn’t meet her gaze, so I stared at the glass of beer instead. “I love him.”

“What the fuck!” she barked. Enzo shot to his feet, his brow lined with concern as he checked on her, and Massimo’s hand flew to his gun. Gia waved at them to sit back down. “Mind your own business, mafiosi. Everything is fine.”

“Can you calm down?” I whispered to her. “I’d rather not get accidentally shot today.”

“I’m sorry. I sometimes forget how protective they are of me.” She adjusted in her seat and drank more beer. After a few seconds, she said, “So, you’re in love with Giacomo?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t feel the same. We don’t need to worry about him coming after me.”

“What do you mean, he doesn’t feel the same? How can he not love you? You’re the sweetest person on the planet.”

Giacomo didn’t see it that way.“You think you’re smarter than everyone else, but you are just a naive sheltered girl . . .”

“Well,” I said, staring at the bubbles in the beer. “Some people don’t want sweet, I guess. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’ll get an annulment and we’ll forget it ever happened.”

“Can you? What if you’re pregnant? He won’t let you go, then.”

“He already let me go. He doesn’t care if I’m pregnant.”

“Bullshit. There isn’t a mafioso alive who doesn’t want his child. They love reproducing and making more mafiosi.”

“Enzo doesn’t.” He had two children from his first marriage, and he told Gia he doesn’t care if they have more kids or not. Which was good, because my sister wasn’t in a rush to become a mother.

“We’ll see about that. Lately he’s been dropping hints.”

“Really? What are you going to do?”

“I can’t think about that right now. Besides, we’re talking about you, not me. When was your last period?”

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