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"And?"
Lorenzo moves around to face me, although his eyes never stay on one spot long. It's quiet, but not empty. He's always vigilant. The best man I could ever have at my side.
He speaks low. "She fed me, which means she looks after the people who help her people. If she's willing to feed me, a complete fucking stranger, in a situation she didn't want to be in, can you imagine what would happen if something happened to her sister? She looks after people. We should look after her."
"Didn't you just tell me…? You know what? Never mind. Whoever you know that can help keep Shana Rossi—shit, she's married—uh, Martin. Whoever can keep Shana Martin safe, get everybody on it. One less thing for us to worry about. Back to business. If it's more than ten places torched, call Eddy with FDNY. Get an arson, fraud investigation going. The more eyes we have on our businesses, the less likely Montegna will attack."
"Are we sure it's Montegna?" he asks.
"I don't know, if I'm being honest. Don't kill anybody until I give the word."
12
EVELYN
Two days down and a lifetime to go. The way Alessandro masters my body's orgasms has my thoughts wandering to him throughout the day. However, something feels different after he took me through the escape tunnel.
Lorenzo is quiet for most of it. Every answer to my questions is short, simple, only giving me the information I need to know. Questions asking why Alessandro threw him against the car go unanswered completely.
Instead of prying into their issues, I focus on my menu for Sunday dinner. Alessandro's right about giving me some time to sort it out. The majority of my day is spent putting it together. The dinner, our first in front of both Families as a married couple, has to be perfect.
As Alessandro De Luca's wife, everyone needs to see I'm onboard. I'm supporting my husband and my father, the Rossis and De Lucas, like the perfect daughter I'm supposed to be. Maybe now they'll see I'm just as important as Shana to the organization. I'm more than the Rossi princess, more than a wife.
One delivery after another comes throughout the day for me to start making dough. Some of the dough is for garlic bread, and another batch of flour is for pasta dough. I'm falling in love with his kitchen. There's so much space, especially without my niece and nephew running around. By the time Alessandro comes home, he looks just as beat as I do, but I'm still up proofing dough and making ravioli.
He smiles, approaching me in the kitchen. "You're really amazing, mio dolce. When all of this is settled between our Families, we should sit down to discuss some business ideas. I'm going to hit the bag and then shower."
"Would you like me to join you?" I ask, with ideas flowing from our last two nights together.
The way Alessandro sighs tells me there's rejection coming. The hesitation in his voice as he speaks doesn't do much to shield my ego from the hurt. "We won't get any sleep if that happens. I have an early client meeting in the morning too. I'd hate to wake you, mio dolce."
A chaste kiss on the corner of my lips doesn't soothe the disappointment. I watch him head upstairs, leaving me to finish my meal prep. I'm not sure how long it takes me to finish in the kitchen, but by the time I take a shower and pass out, there's no time for me to miss Alessandro's touch.
Two sexless nights as Alessandro and I fill our days with his focus on contracts and clients. Mine? Up to my elbows in flour, basil, garlic, tomatoes, and a variety of cheeses as I master one dish after the next, freezing some, refrigerating others, all in preparation to impress the De Luca organization.
My father's people already know I can cook, but I want to be sure the other organization understands Alessandro's not married to some schlub who doesn't know her way around the kitchen. I don't want to be seen as an asset. I want Alessandro, and more importantly, my father, to see that I can be a team player, the anchor to this treaty.
Lorenzo arranges for the delivery of everything I've prepared, and Alessandro arranges a room for us in his uncle's glorious home. When anyone thinks of Staten Island, opulence isn't the word that comes to mind. There are multimillion-dollar mansions nestled in the nooks and crannies of the smallest borough. Oscar Baldoni's is one of the most lavish.
Alessandro sits tensely beside me as we pull up to the ten-feet tall, black wrought-iron fence. It encases a property that looks like it belongs in Atlantis. A gold fountain statue of Zeus is at the center of a circular driveway. I'm in awe, to say the least, but I keep my composure.
Alessandro leans over, whispering to me. "Thank you for going along with all of this."
"It was my idea for Sunday dinner."
"Yeah, but I mean everything, from the wedding on down."
He looks ready to say more, but there are other cars pulling into the driveway behind us. The raucous sounds of my niece and nephew echo into the early Sunday air, pulling me out of the car. The moment Roman and Courtney spot me, they come galloping into my arms.
"Zia Evie! Zia Evie!" Roman's eyes are wide as he points to the statue. Courtney's giggle is one I haven't heard in a while. She makes her way over to the fountain to splash water at her brother. Roman screams and is ready to retaliate, but I can't have them making a mess of themselves before dinner.
"Oh, no you don't, you two. Don't start and drag all that water into the house," I warn them, but their sulking is only temporary as they begin to chase each other, playing tag around the fountain. My mother sidles up beside me with my father joining Alessandro, Lorenzo, and Jenkins in front of the steps leading into the extravagant home.
"You see all of this, Evelyn. Look at what your father did for you. You married good and wealthy."
Zena Rossi is a girl from Bayonne who fell in love with a guy from Brooklyn who ended up as the head of the Rossi organization. Her aspirations are to live like Alessandro's uncle, but I'm content with living under the radar.
"This is his uncle's place, Ma."
