“It might be important at this hour.”
He picks up his phone. “Just pictures from one of my bosses from when Argon was murdered.”
“Open them.”
“You’re a bit pushy,” he teases.
“Well, if it holds a clue to my father’s death, I want to know.”
“Fine.” He shares his phone with me, scrolling through the pictures.
“Hey, I know that one.” I point to a man in the background of a picture.
“Who is it?”
“That’s Gambino, Papa’s underboss who would be in control at his death if not for Giovi.”
“Fuck. Have you talked to your brother recently?”
“Tonight, he said he has loyal men around him and there are Molotov cocktails going off in streets near papa’s businesses. Nothing major has happened. They’re being as safe as possible.”
“Shit, no telling who’s on Gambino’s side, and he must have been stealing from your father too; your father was in debt to us, and if he stole from your father, he’s got money to finance a war. He must have been planning this for some time.”
“Impossible. How could he pull that off? Papa knew everyone. Sicilians don’t talk. No one would raise a hand against Papa.”
“How close is he to your father?”
“He’s like a brother, I call him Uncle.”
“That makes it all the more plausible. He would have known where your father was and weaknesses in his deals to steal from him. He used your father’s trust against you all.”
“I have to call my brother.”
“Text, they might have his calls bugged.”
“Fuck, I never thought of that. Shit. A month off the island and my brain goes to mush.”
“No, I think it’s hormones.”
I pretend to punch him in his arm.
He laughs. It’s nice after the stressful night he’s had and knowing he could have been tonight if things didn’t play out perfectly.
I text Giovi the information that Gambino is the culprit and he says he’s on it.
“Okay, that’s done, but my brother will need help. We don’t know who else is involved in this.”
“We’ll figure it out in the morning, go to sleep, little bluebird.” He turns out the light and pulls me to him. I take comfort in his arms and realize how much I love being in them and that he protects me. Even before he knew me, he protected me.
I drift off to sleep wondering if Gambino sent someone after me at the museum. Surely, he would have known Papa would have been there as Mama and I were working on the invitations for a month.
My head hurts from thinking and I drift off to sleep, but it’s short lived as I worry about Giovi.
“Are those birds chirping?”Massimo murmurs as he pulls the pillow over his head.
“You mixed alcohols,” I scoff.
“It’s a guy thing, besides, it might have turned out to be my last supper if Mama didn’t tell me they were my relatives.”