Page 76 of Mafia Queen
I speak up. “I asked you—”
“Ma’am,” Dario interrupts, “with all due respect, this has to be fixed before the sun comes up, or it’ll go on for a week…and we’re not fighting with glue guns and knitting needles.”
By rights and experience, Dario should be in charge, but this fight isn’t his. I own this war, and it will be won or lost because of me.
“With all due respect,” I say, standing, “this house and the town it protects are mine. The king you’re pledged to is mine. The crown they think they’re coming for…it’s mine.”
“The kitchen is that way. Or we can lock you in the basementcucinauntil you cool down.”
“That’s the only good idea you’ve had.”
We stare at each other over Armando’s body. I don’t know what Dario’s thinking, but I use the time to inventory who’s in the room, how physically strong they are, and the depth of their roots in Secondo Vasto.
“Vito,” I say, keeping eye contact with Dario. “Gennaro. Would you please escort Mr. Lucari to the basement?”
“I don’t want to make this painful for you, Mrs. DiLustro,” Dario says. “But I will.”
“Sure.” I break eye contact and jerk my head toward Vito. “Take the gun and the phone before you lock him down there.”
I try to sound commanding, but I hear a voice that sounds small and feminine. I’m sure Vito won’t listen to me, and I’m going to end up in the basement, screaming while a war is waged over my husband’s death.
Whatever weakness I hear in my voice must be inaudible to Gennaro because he reacts first, coming at Dario from behind and pulling his elbows together. Vito’s right after, reaching into Dario’s jacket for the gun. Dario fights for a moment, but when Carmine makes three—removing the small pistol from his ankle holster—and Vito bends him over Armando’s dead body, he calms down. There’s no use fighting this many.
“This is a mistake,” Dario says to me.
“Probably. But it’s mine to make.”
Dario’s hauled to the basement and locked behind the door.
The basement has food for an army and a bathroom, but he won’t be kept there for long. Now this really has to be done quickly.
* * *
Behind the rowof buildings on the opposite side of the lawn, between the bricks and the rock face, is a few feet of dirt. My shoulders touch wall on one side and mountain on the other, but I just about fit. When I kneel, my hips wedge me in tighter.
Good. This is what I want. A space just for us.
I turn so I can reach my pockets, getting out a gardening trowel. I dig. The hole is narrow and eight inches deep before I can go no farther. I take out the baggie with the zip that won’t lock.
LOVE RULES
I don’t know how the message wound up between Santino’s knuckles. Did he write it, knowing they’d cut it off and send it to me? Or did Gia and Damiano write it there? They’re definitely Santino’s words.
Love rules without rules.
He’s telling me to do whatever I need to do to win, and he will do the same.
There are no rules for us.
I smile. Silly man.
After all he’s seen from me, he still thinks I need his permission.
* * *
A dozen menstand around the perimeter of the office. Gennaro and Carmine sit in front of me. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I sit behind Santino’s desk anyway. It’s too big. The chair is too high. I look like a child playacting in her father’s office.
I’m prepared for this. I have to use both my power and vulnerability to everyone’s advantage.
