Lib Novel Page 55
“So I could kill Mancuso.” A small smirk pulls at his lips. “My godfather took over the Family less than forty-eight hours after I slit Mancuso’s throat. We struck a deal then, Calogero and I. He rules the west coast, and I control the east. But it seems he’s trying to break that agreement now.” Rafael stops at a red light and turns to face me. “And I always make sure people fulfill their promises to me, Vasilisa. Do keep that in mind.”
I nod and shift my gaze to the ribbon of road in front of us. The temperature in the car seems to have dropped, or maybe it’s just the feeling of dread brought on by Rafael’s warning. I wrap his jacket tighter around myself and spend the rest of the journey staring at the dark landscape visible beyond the windshield.
Chapter 11
25 years ago (Rafael, age 14)
Taormina, Sicily
“The body of a man that washed up near Palermo has been identified . . .”
I put the dinner leftovers into the fridge and glance into the living room. My brother is perched in the middle of the sofa, eyes glued on the TV screen and the anchor who is relaying the news. “Turn that off, Guido.”
“They found a dead man!” my brother exclaims with wide eyes.
“Now!” I bark. “Go brush your teeth, then straight to bed.”
“No. I wanna see. Mamma, please.”
Our mother looks up from the dishes she’s been washing and points her sudsy finger at Guido. “Listen to your brother. Upstairs. Quickly.”
My baby brother mumbles a pretty nasty curse word and, throwing the remote on the sofa, dashes across the room.
“Watch your mouth.” I lightly slap the back of his head as he passes me by. “Next time, I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.”
“You say it all the time!” he throws over his shoulder, then runs down the hallway to our bedroom.
Our house is becoming too small for the three of us. Mom really wants Guido to have his own space, a proper bed—not the pull-put sleeper chair he currently uses. She also figures I deserve some privacy and tried giving up her own room to me. Right. Like I’d ever let my mom sleep on the living room couch. We just have to hang on for a bit longer, and then we might be able to move. Once I’m sixteen, I can finally be initiated into Cosa Nostra. For now, the small jobs they have me do from time to time bring in a little to help pay our bills, but when I’m an official member, that’s when the serious money will start to roll in.
I shake my head and reach for the remote when a crash sounds behind me. Spinning around, my attention lands on my mother. She’s standing utterly frozen in the middle of the kitchen, eyes wide and brows pulled up into a worried furrow. Pieces of a shattered plate cover the floor at her feet.
“Mom?”
“Turn up the volume,” my mother chokes out, her stare is panic-stricken and fixed on the TV screen.
“Are you okay? What—”
The shards of porcelain fling and ping off various edges as she rushes toward me, kicking the broken pieces of a plate up with her feet, and snatches the remote out of my hand.
“. . . detective was heading up the task force responsible for a successful operation that saw half a ton of cocaine seized by the police at the Port of Catania last week. His disappearance was reported two days ago . . .”
The news anchor continues to speak, and, with every passing second, my mother’s face grows paler. She has her hands pressed to her mouth, and her whole body has started to shake. I don’t understand why the death of some cop would unsettle her so much. It’s not that uncommon. Once in a while, one turns up dead, especially if they dared to mess with the mob.
“Mom?” I take hold of her shoulders. The last time I saw her so distraught was when Mancuso’s men came over with the news of my father being killed. “What’s wrong?”
She grabs my arms so hard, her nails dig into my skin. The impact of her alarmed gaze nearly sends me reeling. “We have to flee, Rafael. Right now.”
“Flee? Why would—”
“I know that man,” she stammers. “The detective whose body was found. I . . . I’ve been passing him some intel.”
An ice-cold shudder runs down my spine. “What?”
“He approached me a while ago, offering protection if I help him bring down the local Cosa Nostra.”
“Protection?” I roar. “We are under protection, Mom! That same Cosa Nostra you ratted out was keeping us safe! I’m supposed to be initiated into the Family in just over a year! What were you thinking?!”
“That!” She shrieks and shoves my chest with her hands. “I won’t watch either of my sons be lowered into the ground in a casket. Calogero promised me he would keep you and Guido out.”