Page 56 of Alessio

Concerned.

Loving.

Like hers.

“I had poutine once,” Ginevra said, “with my mother and sisters. Mama made it because Greta saw a recipe on the internet—looked fun, I guess.”

Cara quieted for a moment. “Ah.”

“I liked it.”

“Ginevra.”

She peeked up through her lashes, but Cara’s soft smile faded. Instead, she found sympathy and understanding in the older woman’s gaze. “I’m aware of your current circumstances, and what brought you here.”

“Oh.”

“I’m so very sorry about your mother’s passing. You are too young to be without your mother, and I bet that because you have two younger sisters, you feel you need to fill that role for them now. Except being here makes that impossible, doesn’t it?”

“Entirely.” Ginevra shrugged. “And thank you. I try not to think about it … it’s easier.”

Well, mostly.

“Once,” Cara said, “there was a time when I, too, was a woman who did not want the legacy of the mafia following me, or the life I was just given and told I belonged to. I know what this world can sometimes make you sacrifice for this, and I’m sorry that they took your normalcy from you for the benefit of men who do not care what will happen to you because of their choices.”

Ginevra dragged in a burning breath, surprised at the ache in her chest. “I didn’t ask for what my half-brothers did. But I had no choice—if not me, then my sisters. I was willing to be whatever they needed for me to be so that my sisters didn’t have to.”

“And you worry for them now because you’re not with them to stand in where they might have to,” Cara replied. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“Every single night. I worry for hours. I can’t sleep.”

Cara sighed. “I am not supposed to talk about the things my husband knows, or his contacts with other crime families outside of his own. Not our way, you see.”

“I suppose.”

“But … I will make an exception for you, Ginevra.” Cara smiled, that twinkle back in her eye as she said lowly, “From what I understand, and from what Gian has gathered, New York will be a better place for you and your sisters when this ends … one side is winning, and it’s the one you want to win.”

Ginevra straightened on her chair, taking that statement in, and what it meant.

“And for now,” Cara added, “no one will blame you for focusing on yourself, and your own happiness. Because there is nothing else you can do when these men … they make our choices. We make the best of it and say to hell with them when we can. You didn’t ask for this life, but you can do amazing things with it, Ginevra. I hope you’re aware of that.”

The server came around the table, stopping the two from saying anything more on the topic. Food piled high on a silver platter that the woman balanced on her arm had Ginevra’s stomach rumbling.

She could absorb Cara’s words later.

When she was alone …

“Have you pried as much information from her as you could, Ma, and can I take her home with me now?”

Ginevra and Cara spun around from the piece of artwork they had been admiring behind the restaurant’s bar. Done with their lunch, Cara had called, so Chris could come back around to pick up Ginevra anytime he was ready.

Someone else came instead.

Cara grinned at the sight of Corrado standing behind them with his hands tossed into the pockets of his suit’s slacks. “Is that the only reason you assume I wanted to have lunch with her?”

Corrado’s gaze drifted to Ginevra; his usual intensity colored by a clear affection. “Of course not, Ma. She’s amazing without all the other interesting bits with me and Alessio. She doesn’t need us for that.”

“And you would be right,” Cara said.