Page 86 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

“Yes, but not immediately. Otherwise Roberto wouldn’t still be breathing.” Giacomo stepped under the spray to rinse, then said, “We deal in favors, Emma. Promises and alliances. Virga has made an arrangement of some kind with your uncle.”

“Uncle Reggie and my father are close.” I squirted some body wash into my hands and did a very quick rub down, then rinsed.

Giacomo held onto my shoulders, his thumbs tracing my collar bones. “Family can turn on each other, hurt each other, just as easily as anyone else. More so, sometimes.”

“I know about your father and brother, but that’s different.”

“Don’t be naive, Emma. There’s no difference between our families except the last name. We all operate under the same code, which is only the strong survive.”

Naive. That word scraped and raked across my chest to open old wounds. I was tired of people thinking I buried my head in the sand just because I saw the good in others. Just because I wasnice.

And was he implying my father was weak?

“I don’t want to talk about this. You don’t want to trust me with your secret? Fine. But you don’t get to make me feel worse about mine.”

I edged around him and pushed the glass door open. I heard him shut off the water, but I was already grabbing a towel and leaving the room.

We were so done.

* * *

My microbiology classwork blurred in front of my eyes. I couldn’t focus. For two days all I’d been thinking about was what Giacomo said in the shower.

“You know this doesn’t happen without your uncle’s involvement.”

I nibbled my fingernail. Was he right? Was Uncle Reggie working with Virga? That would mean . . . .

It would mean that Uncle Reggie allowed Virga to take me to Sicily and marry me off to Giacomo. That Uncle Reggie allowed Virga’s men on the property, in my father’s bedroom.

And the worst part of all? It meant Uncle Reggie told Virga about my father’s illness.

How could my uncle—my father’sbrother—do this? It was the worst kind of betrayal.

I couldn’t believe it. I’d known Reggie my whole life. I played with his son, Dante, as a child. I tutored his daughter, Emelia, through trigonometry in high school. Family dinners, holidays, the lake house . . . a hundred memories of time spent together, proof of the affection between my father and his brother.

And this was how Uncle Reggie repaid him?

At first I thought there was no need for backstabbing, because my father would die soon. Uncle Reggie was the next Mancini in line, seeing as how my father has no heir.

But maybe Uncle Reggie wasn’t the heir. Maybe this whole thing was about what happened when Papà died.

The logical choice to absorb the Toronto business was Fausto, my sister’s husband. But I couldn’t exactly call up Don Ravazzani and have a chat about things.Hey, Fausto. I know we’ve never really had a one-on-one conversation, but how’s it going?

No, I had to go through my sister. Maybe she’d know if promises were made.

I glanced at my phone. Frankie had three small kids to deal with, including a two-month-old. I wasn’t sure she’d have time for me.

It was worth a try. Besides, I was overdue to check in with her anyway.

I pulled up my older sister’s contact, then hit the button. It rang twice before I heard her voice through the tiny speaker. There were kids yelling in the background. “Girl, you are so fucking lucky you called me today. I was about to send a small army into Peru to check up on you.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s been three days, Frankie. Hardly worth invading a country over.”

I heard her tell someone she’d be right back, then she said, “Emma, Let’s switch to video. I want to see your cute little face.”

I was sitting in Giacomo’s office, the one he never used. It hardly looked like a medical tent in Peru. “My signal isn’t strong enough for that,” I lied. “And I only have a minute.”

“Damn it. We need to get you better equipment out there. Maybe I’ll ask Fausto to send a satellite truck there just for your own personal use.”

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