Page 27 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

“So I’ve been told. Now, what would you like?”

“I haven’t had tea in a long time. If you are willing, I’d like a cup.”

I readied another mug and teabag. “Of course. Do you take milk and sugar?”

“Milk, per favore.” He leaned forward to peek at my phone. “You have a bunch of messages, signora.”

“Probably my sisters. Just ignore them.”

“Are you close, the three of you?”

“Very.” No, this wasn’t true. “Well, we used to be. Before they moved away and found their partners.”

“Your oldest sister is married to Don Ravazzani, no?”

“Yes. And my twin is with Don D’Agostino. He’s in Naples.”

“I know of Don D'Agostino,” Sal said. “As well as Don Ravazzani. Your sisters have aligned themselves with very powerful men.”

“They fell in love. And the men love them back, which is all I care about.” I switched the mugs in the microwave. “Were you ever married?”

“I was engaged once, before I lost my eye. After that, she decided not to marry me.”

I glanced over at him. “She broke it off after you were injured? That’s terrible.”

He shrugged, but I could see the hurt in his expression. “Many people want perfection. They are embarrassed by anything less.”

“You’re better off, then.” I dropped a tea bag in the water to let it steep. “I find it’s the imperfections that make people interesting.”

“You are in the minority, I am sad to say.”

I walked the mug over and placed it in front of him. Then I went to get the milk. “Tell me about the Buscettas.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Start with the father. What was he like?”

“Don Gero.” Sal added the milk to his tea and stirred. “He was a hard man. Tough. A good leader.”

“Good to his wife? His kids?”

He grimaced. “It isn’t my place to say, signora.”

“Sal, please. I’m trapped with a bunch of strangers, married to a man I don’t know. Help me understand.”

“The people who want perfection?” When I nodded, he said, “This was Don Gero. He tolerated only the best. There was no room for failure.”

“Do you mean with the business?”

His solemn gaze met mine. “I mean with everything.”

That was impossible with kids. Expecting perfection only set up unrealistic expectations and often led to higher anxiety in some children. Failure was an important part of learning. At least that’s what I’d learned in my psych classes.

“Nino was his favorite child. The oldest, you see.” Sal sipped his tea. “So Don Gero molded Nino into a younger version of himself.”

“And Giacomo?”

“He resisted such molding.”

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