Nothing.
“These men,” she said after a beat, gesturing to the door, “are some of the best men you’ll ever meet. They’ll love you harder than you can imagine, make all your dreams come true if you let them, but loving them comes at a price.”
I tilted my head, letting her know I was listening.
“Pete gave me the world and showed me a good chunk of it, but it came at a cost. He’d be gone for days at a time. His hours were irregular at best, always waiting for a call, and when he was home—” She swallowed, her face solemn. “When he was home, it was my job to share the burden of his soul. Good men like Pete and Luca don’t make it through this life unscarred. It falls on us to create the bright side, the part of their life that helps the ugliness fade, at least for a little while.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Maria laughed, wiping her eye with a wrinkled handkerchief. “After that lecture? Please.”
“How did you keep your own life outside of all this?”
“Ah.” She looked around the room before settling on my face. “It was easier for me. I’m a nurse, and Pete,” she cleared her throat, “Pete wasn’t exactly a boss.”
“What about your family and friends?”
“My Mom passed away a few years ago, but she loved Pete. Everyone else either didn’t know or made a quick exit out of our lives. The beauty of the Morettis is they become your family and friends.” She laid a hand on top of the box. “If you let them.”
Maria was so candid that I didn’t doubt she believed what she said. The picture she painted was lovely, but I wasn’t sure it was real, especially after everything I’d experienced. I wasn’t about to shit on her vulnerability, so I smiled and tried to hand her a tissue from the nightstand.
“Oh no, I’m fine.” She waved the rumpled, soggy handkerchief. “This was Pete’s.”
Maria went back to staring at her wall of memories, and I twisted and tore the tissue, ready to stay with her all night if that’s what she wanted.
I’m not sure how long we sat, hand in hand, soaking in whatever Pete vibes remained. The dull hum of the crowd downstairs dwindled as the front door opened and shut. By the time the house was quiet, the room was dark, but neither of us switched on a light.
Loud shouting and stampeding heels on the stairs broke through our silent vigil.
“Sasha!” Adriana rushed into the room, panting. “I need you downstairs.” Without waiting for a response, she was out the door and thundering down the stairs.
The sound of something heavy crashing to the ground and loud masculine voices got both Maria and me to our feet and down to the living room, where Luca and Marco traded blows like prized boxers. Dante Sr.’s inner circle—Gabe Ricci, Alessandro Russo, Giuseppe Moretti, and AntonioBruno—stood around the outside of the room, sipping their drinks and occasionally muttering to one another. Luca had slowly retired his father’s most trusted associates from decision making, replacing them with his most loyal cousins. It had not been a pleasant transition, and these old bastards did nothing to hide how much they enjoyed the new boss and underboss beating the shit out of one another.
Marco yelled something in Italian and then socked Luca in the stomach. Luca growled and tackled him into the curio cabinet. Tiny spoons and glass flew everywhere. Slivers of wood clung to their black suit coats as they rolled around on the floor.
“Enough!” I shouted. They went still. “Get off the floor right now,” I gritted out. “Look at this place!” The beige rug under the decimated coffee table had red splotches all over. Lamps and plastic cups surrounded the side tables that had been shoved, along with the couch feet from its rightful spot.
Maria surveyed the room, a smile playing on her lips. “I guess it was time for a new rug.” A giggle spilled from her lips, followed by a chuckle, and then Maria devolved into a full belly laugh. She fell onto the couch, holding her stomach while Luca and Marco climbed off the floor, watching her with concern.
“Maria?” Luca approached her, but she held up a hand, hiccupping while telling him she was fine. He looked at Marco, who was equally confused.
“What happened?” Mrs. Abate stood in the doorway, a kitchen towel over her shoulder. Her eyes darted from the two bloody men to the destroyed furniture, to her daughter-in-law doubled over. “Oh, Maria.” She breezed past me and sat next to Maria, drawing her into a tight embrace. “It’s okay.”
Maria lifted her head, shoving her dark hair from her face and showing Flo that she was crying, but it was from laughing so hard. “Pete always threatened to smash my tiny spoons. I guess they did it for him.” Another loud burst of laughter and the rest of us awkwardly stood there waiting for a sign from the great above to tell us what we were supposed to do.
Mrs. Abate apparently had a direct line to the cosmos because she looked at me and jerked her chin toward the kitchen.
“It looks like your drinks could use a little freshening.” I eyed the former underboss, waiting for a response. Wisely, he dipped his chin and left the room, the other men following in his wake.
With the tension in the room sky high, I turned to the couch. “Why don’t we clean you guys up?” I motioned Marco and Luca away from Maria, giving Adriana a look. “Come on!” That snapped them out of their daze, and the four of us left the Abate women to laugh or have a breakdown, whatever Maria was doing on that couch.
“Is she going to be okay?” Luca said in my ear as we followed Marco and Adriana down the hall.
“I have no idea. What the fuck is going on between you and Marco?” I rasped.
Luca nudged me along. The kitchen was a mess of half-empty serving trays and bowls. Adriana read off a piece of paper, “Be back in an hour to clean up. Signed, the wives.” She rolled her eyes, placing the note back on the counter. “They could’ve just told us.The wives. What’s that?”
I scoffed. “Get Rocky and Rocky two some ice. I’ll check the bathroom for a first aid kit.” Marco and Adriana were gone when I got back, and Luca was packing the food away. “You should be icing your eye. Leave that for now.”