Page 60 of Mafia Handbook

“How do you know?”

“I can't tell you that.”

“You can't tell me?”

“No, not my story to tell.”

“You know, Gil. When people say that, it usually means something bad has gone down.”

“Listen, while I can't tell you the reason she came by, I can tell you the reason she’s brushing you off. It’s because she overheard you tell Jamisson the only reason you were with her is because you can't stand to lose.”

“I never…” Bash trailed off, recalling the conversation he had in the maintenance room. “Gil, there was so much more to the conversation.”

“I told her as much when she confided in me. Listen, I like you, and I know you are the guy for my sister. You know the kind of shit she’s been through recently. She may put up a good front, but she’s hurting, and she needs you, more than you know. If you want to be with her, do yourself a favor and be at Frank’s funeral tomorrow.”

“And if she won't talk to me?”

“You let me worry about that. And Bash?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck my sister over and I will kick your ass.”

* * *

Milena couldn’t waitto sit down, as the borrowed heels she’d chosen were killing her feet. She briefly considered blowing off these people who’d come to pay their respects to her father in exchange for the comforts of a pair of fluffy slippers.

“Milena, I’d like you to meet my wife, Cora.”

Snapping her attention to her left, Milena was greeted by the face of the woman she recalled from the hallway at the hospital.

“Cora, this is Milena Rossi.”

Extending her hand, Milena nodded, and they shared a smile. “I remember you from the hospital. Nice to officially meet you.”

Cora returned Milena’s smile, taking her warm hand in hers, “You were going through so much that day, I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Dipping her head down, “Overwhelmed seems to be my new home as of late.”

Squeezing Milena’s hand, Cora silently demanded the return of her attention. “You are the author of your future. Do not allow yourself to become a prisoner of anyone else’s expectations.”

“Easier said than done, Cora. I have a church full of people waiting to see my reaction to my father.”

“Then let them wait.”

Gasping, Milena spun on her heels, her eyes landing on a suit-clad Bash climbing the church steps. Handsome didn't begin to describe him; the tailored material over his muscles fit him in such a way, Milena wanted to rip them off and have her way with him.

Bash’s heart hammered in his chest as he took in Milena’s beautiful face. She’d lost weight, something he’d easily correct, and her skin was pale, which he attributed to the lengthy time they’d spent inside a mountain away from the sun.

“Aunt Cora.” Keeping his gaze on Milena, Bash placed a kiss to his aunt’s cheek, “You look beautiful as ever.”

For the first time in his life, Bash felt as if he was standing at a crossroads. If he chose to follow Gil’s advice, he stood the chance of this being a trap, one constructed by a revenge seeking sibling. If he continued to honor his promise, he worried she would drift further away.

Flipping a mental coin, Bash tossed caution to the wind. “I know my timing is bad, but could I have a word with you?”

Milena moved to argue, remind Bash she needed to get into the church so the service could begin. Yet, as a million reasons for turning him down flooded her head, a single thought silenced them all.

“Of course, but can we do this sitting down? These shoes are killing my feet.”

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