Page 23 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

“Okay, so we aren’t faking a blood test,” she said. “What other options do we have?”

Just one: Removing Virga.

But Zani and I needed to discuss the potential repercussions first.

“I’m working on it,” I told Emma. “Don’t worry.”

“Well, I am worried. This is my life we’re talking about.”

“And also mine. You’re not the only one affected by this.”

“You’re right,” she said calmly. “I’m sorry.”

Any other woman I knew would be yelling and cursing me, ordering me to fix this. Emma was collected and polite, even though her life had been turned upside down.

Not to mention I’d admitted to infidelity, as well as insulted and dismissed her. In response? She hadn’t even raised her voice.

I didn’t know if I was impressed or disappointed.

It didn’t matter. Her meekness was proof of how wrong she was for me, for this life. To stand at my side a woman had to be strong and able to hold her own. Emma was too sweet, too inexperienced. My world would crush her and break her spirit, if she had any.

God knew my mother hadn’t lasted. My father ground her down to nothing before she died. He’d tried to do the same to my sister. Thankfully, I’d been able to save Viv from most of his cruelty. But it hadn’t been easy and she still suffered.

As did I. There were nights I woke up in a full sweat, certain I was locked in the cellar again. Trapped in the musty darkness with no hope of escape. Waiting for my father to forgive whatever transgression I committed and let me out.

Sweet and soft had no place in the Cosa Nostra or in the Buscetta family. It never had.

I cast her a glance out of the side of my eye. “Why didn’t your father fight Virga on this?”

“I suspect he had his reasons. But the arrangement was only for a wedding, not a baby.”

“I will find a way to fix it. Give me time.”

“How long?”

The back of my neck tightened and I couldn’t hold the irritation out of my voice. “Soon. I can’t be more specific, Emma. This is bigger than you and me, capisce?”

“I know. Don’t get upset. I just . . . People are depending on me there.”

I remembered Zani’s theory about a boyfriend. “A man?”

“No!”

It was said with such disdain that I wondered about her past. Had Mancini kept her pure for a future husband? “Have you had sex before?”

Her skin turned the color of a ripe tomato and she focused her gaze on her wine glass. “I suppose you think it’s your right to ask because we’re married, but that information is personal.”

Mamma mia, a virgin. Even more reason to stay away from her. “You don’t need to worry. I won’t try to have sex with you.”

“Yes, you made that perfectly clear in the hotel room. And it seems you already have someone to help with that, so . . . .”

“So you are off the hook, no?”

“Yes, except for this baby Don Virga expects us to create.”

“I’ll find a way out of this mess long before it comes to that.” Six months was an eternity. Without a doubt I could devise an escape before then.

We drank in silence for a few minutes. It should’ve annoyed me to have a strange woman in the house, especially one so young, but Emma wasn’t on her phone. She wasn’t carrying on an endless conversation or trying to impress me. She was merely . . . here.

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