Page 35 of Mafia Bride
“What is it?”
“It’s a secret,” Santino says as he flips a page.
“See how long that lasts,” I grumble, taking another bite.
Santino nods to Celia, and she leaves. Maybe she’s someone in the house I can befriend to learn more about the ins and outs—the quiet exits and safe shadows. She’ll know this house and the routines like the back of her hand.
“You have your cappuccino.” Santino folds the paper neatly and sets it down. He links his hands before him and stares right into my very soul. There is now no one else left in this room, in this world, worth his attention but myself.
I turn away to dump sugar into the coffee. After being mostly ignored, I feel uncomfortable. Itchy. Trapped under a glass vial and studied under a microscope.
“I do.” I stir. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for giving you what you’re entitled to.”
“Fine.” I tap the spoon on the edge of the cup and put it down. I’m supposed to be learning his weaknesses, not the other way around. So I force up a tough composure and take a dainty sip.
“Is there something you need from your zio’s house?” Maybe I glance over at him with too much urgency, because he waves it away. “My men can pick up some…woman things.”
Oh, the things I could say.
Instead, I just answer the question, starting with something harmless.
“My school summer reading list.”
He almost smiles, but stops himself. I don’t like to see him acting as if he finds me adorable. I’m not a child.
“Anything else?”
“My phone.”
He scoffs, and I know why. Giving me access to the world outside Secondo Vasto is a massive risk, but like many risks, there’s a potential upside. If I had my phone, I could call any decent human on the planet and be set free, or I could use it to fortify his position.
“I have a friend waiting to hear from me.”
“Your friend Scarlett? She’s on vacation.” He shrugs. “In a different time zone.”
He knows things. He knows the identity and location of my best friend. My skin tingles with adrenaline, but I can neither run nor fight.
“I want to call my aunt and uncle,” I add. “To make sure they’re all right and that they know I’m still alive.”
“You can call from here.”
He’s got an answer for everything.
“And…” I raise my chin because I have a right to ask this. “I want to go back to school in September.”
“You want to go back?”
“Yes!” I can’t hide my offense at the question.
“All right.” He surprises me with the agreement. “If you’re good, you’ll go back.”
“What doesgoodmean?”
“Have you not gone to church in your life? Did the nuns not explain it to you?”
“I want you to explain it.”
