Page 19 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

Yiiiikes. Her room had been empty for two decades? Talk about creepy.

I didn’t believe in ghosts. But I had respect for the dead, the memories they left behind. “I’ll sleep in the late Don Buscetta’s room, then.”

“Va bene.” Sal led me to the end of the hall where double gold doors awaited. “Through there. The staff keeps it clean, just in case.”

I turned the knob and went in. If I thought I’d find a tasteful, masculine room, I was thoroughly disappointed. The bedroom was every bit as gaudy as the rest of the house. Maybe more so. The bed was huge, with a gilded headboard adorned with cherubs. Mounds of gold and purple pillows rested on a gold silk duvet. A chandelier hung over the bed, crystals dripping like tear drops, while a divan rested against the wall. More heavy silk framed the top of the windows, with lace curtains hanging below.

Holy smokes.

“Someone really likes gold,” I muttered as I took it all in.

“Cosa?”

“Nothing. How long ago did Don Buscetta die?”

“Don Gero went into hiding years ago. He let his older son, Nino, take over the day-to-day operations of the business. Nino was killed first, then Don Gero at his farm in the hills a few weeks later.” He gave me a strange look. “I’m surprised you don’t know this.”

“Why would I?”

“Because your sister’s stepson was the one responsible.”

The news hit me like a douse of cold water. “Giulio Ravazzani?” At Sal’s nod, I blinked several times. “Oh, goodness.”

No wonder Buscetta hated me. My sister’s family had killed Buscetta’s father and brother. Was he planning on exacting revenge for it?

Of course he is, dummy!This was the mafia we were talking about. No slight could go unpunished.

All the more reason for me to find a way out of this marriage as quickly as possible.

The chime of the doorbell startled us both.

Frowning, Sal pulled out his mobile and read a text message. “There has been a delivery for you, signora.”

“Me?”

“The guards brought it to the front door.”

No one knew that I was in Palermo. Who would’ve sent me something? “I’ll go down.”

“No, you wait here,” Sal said. “I’ll go.”

His leg must hurt all the time. There was no reason for him to go up and down the stairs on my account. “Sal, I don’t mind,” I called as he started down the hall. “You should head to bed.”

“My bedroom is on the ground floor. I have to go down anyway.”

“Then I’ll come along and save you a trip back up here.”

His smile was kind as we started walking together. “You are a sweet girl, signora. I think you will be good for Giacomo.”

My lips pressed tight. No, thank you. I didn’t want to be anything for Buscetta, good or bad.

The descent was slow, but I pretended not to notice. He paused to rest on the bottom step, so I went to the front door. “Signora,” Sal called, “you should really allow me—”

“Nonsense. I have it.” I yanked open the door and found a man standing there, a rectangular-shaped box in his hands.

“Signora Buscetta,” the guard said, not directly meeting my eyes. “This has been delivered for you.”

“Has it been checked, Dino?” Sal asked behind me.

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