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Chapter 7
As soon as her men were gone, the Widow turned to me. “Well, Signor Rosolini, it appears I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“For not believing you about your uncle. Had I listened to you from the beginning, we might have avoided this…”
She looked around at all the corpses.
“…debacle.”
Then she turned back to me. “You can be assured that I will support your family in any actions you take against your uncle and cousin.”
“Thank you, Signora.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong, Signor Rosolini?”
She was perceptive, I’d give her that.
“It’s just… wouldn’t it have been better to keep Giotto alive for questioning?” I asked.
“We got what we needed. And after an episode like this, sometimes it’s better to set a fearsome example than get a few scraps of information.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t voice my doubt. After all, she was a mafia don – rather, a donna. A great lady of the Cosa Nostra. She had been ruling her family’s empire with an iron fist since I was a child.
One thing I was certain of, though:
My brother Adriano would have approved.
He, too, liked killing people before they’d been fully interrogated.
“You do realize that Giotto might not have been the only traitor,” I said.
She scowled. “I’m well aware. I’ll take of it.”
Okay, then.
Apparently she didn’t like outsiders questioning her organization or how she ran it.
I figured she was pissed at me for overstepping my bounds, but suddenly her voice softened. “I shouldn’t have doubted you, Massimo.”
I looked at her in surprise.
The use of my first name, especially by so powerful a woman –
It was a gesture of intimacy.
Like being admitted into her inner circle.
And to receive an apology from so powerful a person?
Rarer than a full solar eclipse during an alignment of all the planets.
However, I didn’t use her first name when I replied. The difference in our stations demanded I still address her with the utmost deference.
“No apology necessary, Signora.”
She gave me a smile of grim amusement. “It wasn’t an apology so much as a statement of fact.”
I chuckled. Even when saying she was sorry, she wouldn’t say she was sorry.
“Understood. But we should see to your safety now, along with everyone in your family.”
Her eyes widened and she gasped in horror. “Oh my God – ”
“What?”
“My granddaughter…”
I knew exactly what she was thinking.
If the Widow had been targeted for kidnapping, then there was a good chance that her only living relative would be, too.
Especially once Fausto learned that his plan to capture the Widow had failed.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“The Università Ca’ Foscari.”
The most prestigious university in Venice.
“Hold on,” the Widow said, then yelled loudly, “Roderigo!”
One of the suits poked his head through the door. “Signora?”
“Call my granddaughter, now!”
The man pulled out his phone as he rushed over to the Widow.
Then he dialed, put it on speakerphone, and held it out so we could hear.
We listened to the dial tone –Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org
Followed by a recording of a young woman’s voice.
“It’s Lucia. Leave a message… BITCH.”
It’s fair to say I was completely taken aback.
The girl’s voice was young, snarky, and disrespectful – a complete 180 degrees from her grandmother.
Well… maybe 90 degrees.
They both had a good deal of snarkiness in common.
The Widow glanced over at me with a weary expression.
“My granddaughter,” she said in a disgusted tone of voice. Then she turned back to the phone. “Lucia, this is Nona – call me IMMEDIATELY. There was an attack on the palazzo. I’m fine, but I’m worried for your safety. I’m sending Roderigo and some of my men to come get you – ”
“I’ll go with them,” I offered.
“ – and a gentleman named Massimo Rosolini. Call me as soon as you get this.”
Then she nodded at Roderigo, and he hung up.
“Text her what I said,” she ordered.
Roderigo began typing out a message with his thumb.
The Widow turned to me. “Thank you for your kind offer. Given what you did earlier, I’m relieved you’ll be accompanying my men.”
“It’s my pleasure, Signora.”
She clasped my hands with her cold, tiny fingers – and for the first time, I could see real fear in her eyes.
“I implore you, Signore – return her to me safely, and I will meet whatever price you ask. She is all I have left in this world.”
The use of Signore was even more surprising than when she had called me by my first name.
Signor means ‘mister’ when attached to a name, such as ‘Signor Rosolini’ –
But Signore is far more respectful when used as an immediate address.
It can mean anything up to ‘lord.’
For a grand donna of the Cosa Nostra to address me in such a fashion –
It was a rare honor, indeed.
“The only price I ask is your friendship, Signora,” I said respectfully.
“You already have that for saving my life,” she assured me. “Now go – return my granddaughter to me safely!”