Page 117 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

Silently, Zani and I edged into the trees and approached the back of the house. Then laughter—loud feminine laughter—wafted out of the open windows and I nearly tripped. Che cazzo? Was that Viv? I hadn’t heard her laugh like that before.

This must be someone else.

We took our places near the door, Zani to the side, and me directly in front. Then I raised my foot and kicked the door in. Wood splintered and then Zani was through first, moving into the farmhouse, me on his heels.

We both stopped short.

A barefoot Viviana stared at us in horror. She held a glass of wine in her hand, her long hair swirling around her shoulders, and a young man was behind her, his arm around her waist. Soft music played from a phone on the table.

I ignored her, my focus entirely on Federico. “Get your hands off her or die.”

Federico moved slowly, raising his arms up, but Viviana moved to block him from my view. “Giacomo! What are you doing? Why are you here?”

“Viv, get out of the way.”

“I won’t. I don’t want you hurting him.”

I spared her a dark glance. “Move aside and let me handle this.”

“No. You have no right to break down the door and come in here with guns pointed at us.”

I remembered my sister’s aversion to guns. Reaching behind me, I tucked the pistol into my waistband and motioned for Zani to do the same. I didn’t need a gun to kill Federico anyway.

I held up my palms. “There, no guns. Now step away from Federico.”

She set her wineglass down on the table, then put her hands on her hips. “You’re mad that we ran away.”

“Yes, I’m fucking mad,” I said through clenched teeth. “This stronzo had no business taking you out of Mirabella.”

“This stronzo is myhusband,” she shot back. “So mind your tongue, fratello.”

Husband?

The news hit me like an uppercut to the jaw. What the actual fuck? My muscles swelled, anger flooding me, as I took a threatening step forward. “You pezzo di merda,” I spat at Federico. “You married her without my permission! I will punch your teeth into your throat for that.”

Federico opened his mouth to speak, but Viviana beat him to it. “You’re not hitting my husband. I love him, Mo.”

“When?” I snapped.

“Last night. Blessed by a priest and we signed the paperwork. It’s official.”

Cazzo madre di dio. My sister was married and I hadn’t even been there. Never would I forgive Federico for such an offense. “Married or not, you are not safe out here, unprotected. You need to be under a doctor’s care, watched by my guards.”

“No, I don’t. You want me there to keep me safe, but I don’t want to stay. Even if something bad happens.”

She wasn’t thinking rationally. I needed to speak with her alone. “Zani, take Federico outside.”

“No!” Viviana grabbed her husband’s arm. “I know what that means. And he stays right here, with me. Alive.”

I didn’t want her upset, so I held up a hand. “I wish to speak with you privately. I swear it. Federico lives . . . for now.”

My sister looked between Zani and me, and the mistrust on her face shredded me. I probably deserved it, as we both knew I preferred to settle things with violence, but I was still her brother. “I’ve never lied to you, sorellina. And I never will.”

Her shoulders relaxed and she let go of Federico, but not before kissing him on the mouth. I tried not to react, but it was fucking hard. They shared a whispered exchange, then Federico followed Zani outside.

When we were alone she picked up her wine. “Would you like some?”

“I want to know what you think you’re doing.”

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