Page 228 of Vicious Intentions
Moretti, however, keeps his composure. “I’m sorry things had to end this way,” he says.
“So am I,” I retort coldly.
“Anyway,” Vitale shakes his head for the third time, like that’s enough to shake off his sadness over my brother’s death. “You and I should talk soon.”
“About what?”
“I don’t think now is the time, Aldo,” Moretti reprimands, apparently already aware of what the Old Fox wants from me.
“I’m an old man, Alfonso. Who knows if I’ll even wake up tomorrow? Might bemyfuneral you attend next,” Vitale chuckles before glancing over his shoulder and waving toward the pew filled with what I assume is his entire family. “Hurry along now, girls. Chop chop.”
“Jesus, Dad. Do we really have to do this now?” a girl with long raven-black hair and light gray eyes grumbles.
“Everyone’s giving me shit today,” the Old Fox mutters under his breath.
“We’re in a church, Daddy. Best not let Father Benedetto hear you curse. You know how fucking militant he gets about people swearing in His house,” another raven-haired beauty sing-songs, not caring that she’s cursing just as much as her father.
Another girl trails behind the two Vitale sisters, much younger than the others, but I barely catch a glimpse of herface since she seems more interested in staring at the floor than looking at me.
It’s okay, kid. You’re not missing much, I think to myself.
“Nico, please let me formally introduce you to my daughters. This is my oldest, Serafina,” he starts, Serafina forcing a pleasant smile onto her face, though her gray eyes tell me she doesn’t want to be here.
“Hi there,” I grumble, which I hope passes as a greeting.
“And this is my Antonella,” Vitale says proudly, pushing forward the daughter who clearly inherited both his foul mouth and complete lack of shame.
“Hi,” she winks, eyeing me with such open interest that heat creeps up my neck and the collar of my dress shirt suddenly feels too damn tight.
I tug at it anyway, desperate for air inside this suffocating church.
“And this is my youngest, Gianna.” He beams proudly, though when the girl never lifts her eyes to meet mine, his smile fades slightly. “These are my girls. My pride and joy. Well… almost all of them. Where the hell is Veronica?”
“Ronnie said she had better plans than attending a stuffy funeral,” Antonella replies with a snarky smile, still eyeing me like she wants to climb me like a tree.
“Curses, that girl,” he grumbles before pasting a fake smile back onto his lips. “No matter. I’m sure I’ll get the opportunity to introduce you to my daughter properly when you come for dinner one night.” He beams. “Remember, you can’t stay single for long. Not anymore. Not now that you’ve become the new Boss.”
“Aldo,” Moretti grumbles, clearly displeased with his old friend choosing now to remind me that I need to get married.
Before my throat closes up for good, I throw them both a nod and mutter something about checking on my mother.Thankfully, no one puts up much of a fight, and I hightail it out of there before Vitale asks Father Benedetto to marry me to one of his daughters, my brother’s coffin be damned.
I take my seat next to my mother, Raffaele sitting on her other side.
“Hey, Mom? You doing okay?” I ask, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
“What do you think?” Raffaele snaps, throwing daggers at me with his eyes. “She shouldn’t have come. This is too much for her.”
But I pretend not to hear my brother and focus on my mother instead.
“Mom, how are you holding up? Have you eaten anything today? Do you need to get some air?”
Instead of replying, she just shakes her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s not right. It’s not right.”
“What’s not right, Mom? Tell me. Maybe I can help,” I offer hopefully, since these are the first real words she’s spoken since learning about Matteo’s death.
“They should be buried together,” she whispers, her gaze finally finding mine. “It’s not right to keep them apart. It’s not right, Nico.”
Then she breaks into frantic sobs.
