Page 63 of Wretched Choices

I fix my hair and clothes, and with a touch of mascara, I’m ready to land back home.

Luckily, we are landing first in Palermo, where Salvatore is meeting with the head of Cosa Nostra there, his distant cousin, so he can organize the safety of our stay in Italy. You can’t just come to someone’s territory without agreements, cousin or not. I’m just asking myself what Salvatore has offered so we can stay here.

Three cars are waiting for us, and six men. They greet Salvatore with handshakes and kisses on the cheek, while I’m barely looked at.

I’m not surprised; I’m married to him, and giving me something other than a respectful look is direct disrespect against Salvatore. Anything less will lead them to their early grave.

Italian Cosa Nostra still follows old traditions. Some have evolved with time, but not as much as La Cosa Nostra in America, where they are modernizing themselves.

When the driver opens the door for us, I enter the car, waiting for the tragedy to come.

twenty-six

Salvatore

As my cousin promised, our transport to his house was arranged as expected for all the money I’m paying for our safety here. Not to mention the main cost is not the millions I paid; it’s what he will ask for in return when the time comes.

Self-interest moves people. It doesn’t matter how rich or powerful they are. Their needs come first. I knew what he needed and gave it to him because I need my alliance with Isabella’s father. I need him to see her and to make this official, and to do that, I need my cousin by my side.

You could cut the tension in the car with a knife. I don’t have to look at Isabella beside me to see her distress or the tension on her shoulders.

I can feel it.

Her head is probably filled with questions I didn’t answer when she asked.

The car pulls in front of the baroque-style villa. Villa Celestia is a palace buried in a small village a few kilometers from Palermo, where my cousin lives.

This villa was in ruins when he bought it. It belonged to a prince in the 16th Century, who married the woman he fell in love with. However, she didn’t love him, and after catching her cheating, he went mad. Leave it to my cousin, who is a madman himself, to find this place appealing. The garden’s walls and entrance are a spectacle of bizarre figurines, featuring dragons, serpents, gargoyles, and contorted humans.

My cousin, who couldn’t meet us because of some family business, is waiting by the main entrance of the house.

I exit first and wait for Isabella. With my hand on her back, we climb the ornate staircase that leads onto the veranda by the grand entrance, where I walk to the open arms of my cousin.

“Last time I saw you, you were a little boy.”

I laugh. “You weren’t a much older, cousin. You are only five years older than me.”

“Five years in the mafia world feels like double. You know that.”

“Well, my view on the subject is different from yours. But let’s agree to disagree on that.” I turn toward Isabella. “This is my wife, Isabella Ruggeri. Isabella, this is my cousin, Rocco.” Isabella stiffened as soon as I said her father’s name. However, she doesn’t let it show. With her head held high, she gives her hand for a shake.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I didn’t know Ruggeri had a daughter who is alive.” He puts emphasis onalive.

Her lips spread in an ironic smile. “I’m very alive.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I can see that.” Smirking, he leads us inside the large hallway.

“Dinner will be ready at eight. Your wife can rest while we discuss business. Elena will escort her to your room.”

An older woman comes into view, and Isabella, with eyes filled with questions, leaves with her. We had a discussion. Yes, Rocco is my third cousin, but when looking into ammo against me, even cousins can be an enemy.

I follow him to his office, where two of his men are already waiting.

“Now we talk business, so later we can enjoy our meal,” Rocco says and sits in his chair, offering me a seat across from him. “Your money has arrived. However, that money is for my men and whatever you will need during your stay here.” His eyes gleam as he speaks. “Your payment for my hospitality will be something else. But I’m not sure you’re ready to know what I want. But don’t be afraid. I’m thinking of something of value that money cannot buy.”

I raise my eyebrows. “What do you have in mind?”

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