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Without thinking, I say, “Carlo was.”
Alessio nods, solemnly, “Yes. In every sense, he was.”
Bruno says, “He has the head for it. If he was made head of the family now, he would easily be the smartest capo in the city, bar none. But he hasn’t been schooled to it. He hasn’t had a father to guide and steer him into the ways of power in this thing of ours.” His head shakes as he looks from me to Alessio and back, like the two men are sharing something they’ve already discussed.
Bruno’s eyes gleam. “I didn’t, either. I didn’t know my adopted dad for long enough, and the don has never been that to me.” He searches my eyes. “None of us are perfect for the role. We always agreed that the three of us together would be good, strong, and capable. That we would have each others’ backs, and we would support Alessio.”
Alessio’s nod is solemn.
“Ass though he is,” Bruno adds. “But the way things are these days, we might need to be more than that.”
Alessio says, “You have had that. With you, we could be unbeatable.”
“Yes.” The idea is dizzying. “You know that I was born to head a family. Only the conventions won’t allow it.”
Alessio colors. His temper is up. “Who cares about the fucking conventions? With all of us standing with you and for you, who can stop us?” But we all know who can.
Still, I’m shocked. What he’s proposing is what I’ve fantasized, sure. I’ve dreamed about it, but I haven’t let myself think about it seriously. Not the practicality. It’s more than I even dared put together in my wildest dreams. “Can we really do that?”
Bruno chuckles. “We can really do anything.”
I say, “I would need Carlo in on this.”
Bruno agrees, “But Carlo will be the first to say ‘yes.’ I know he will.”
I nod in agreement. “I know it, too. But it’s still for him to say. We don’t just take his vote for granted.”
Alessio says, “It doesn’t matter. However much we want it, the don will never allow it.” He shrugs. “I’ll tell him.”
“Sure, Alessio. That’ll do it.” The masculine knockabout between them gets me going a little.
Idiotically, I blurt, “What about the house? Or houses?”
Bruno freezes.
Alessio turns, “What?”
“On Wood Street. I heard you talking at breakfast.” I think I must have misunderstood, and what I want more than anything is for them to tell me that I did.
Both the men’s faces have fallen into expressions of cold stone. Bruno’s voice is flat and hard. “You’re not family, Lucy. Not yet.”
Alessio says, “We both hope you will be family. We all do. But, I know it’s the same in your family. It is everywhere. An outsider, however close, a guest in the house, is not expected to ask questions, prying into matters of business.”
Bruno’s face is dark. “I thought I knew you, Lucy.”
Alessio’s head shakes.
The two men straighten their clothes and they leave without another word.
Feeling lifeless and empty, I take a look around the summerhouse, checking to see that nothing is too much out of place. I’m weary to my bones. Just cleaning the cups from the coffee seems to drain more energy than I can find.
Probably I should gather the books back together and return them to the library. But I can’t be bothered. I leave them on the coffee table and step out of the summerhouse, into the watery sunshine. As I look back at the door, unbearable pangs claw at my insides, but there’s nothing I can do now. My feet shuffle on the path. I’m looking too much at the ground. It’s only when I’m in front of the gazebo that I see Jago’s steely-eyed grin.
Now I know for sure. The note under my coffee cup was a clever trap, and I skipped straight into it. Jago left the note.
Her chin tips up in a gesture of contempt and triumph.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
