Most people would do anything to protect the ones they loved.
I would have gladly taken Chiara’s place buried in the maze behind Pearl Hall.
Elena would gladly have taken Cosima’s when she lay comatose in the hospital last year.
Now, it just remained to be seen if the Irish mob had enough decency to look out for their own in the same way.
I pulled out my cell phone without discussing the plan with anyone and dialed Yara’s number.
“I’ve got a plan,” I told her. “But you’re not gonna like it.”
I didn’t see Dante for six days.
That wasn’t unusual for many reasons.
A federal trial like his could take years to go to court, and even though we had filed for an expedited trial, the legal clogs still took months to churn.
We were busy, though.
Our pre-trial motion to suppress Mason Matlock’s testimony was going to court that morning, and it was absolutely vital that we won. Giuseppe di Carlo’s nephew had testified to police following the shooting at Ottavio’s that it was Dante who had driven by in an unmarked black SUV with a few of his “thugs” to shoot out the deli.
The problem was, Dante didn’t have an alibi we could use because he was protecting someone.
After studying the particulars of the case, I had to wonder if he wasn’t protecting my sister.
Cosima had been shot three times that day, but arguably, she could have killed Giuseppe di Carlo before the drive-by shooters arrived.
It was one of the many theories circulating through my mind as I worked long hours on the case each day, not only his case but also the man himself a dominant feature in my thoughts.
It wasn’t easy to admit I was intrigued by him.
So, I didn’t credit my theory about Cosima and his protection too much. It almost seemed like wishful thinking on my part, trying to make a rogue into a gentleman through any means possible.
But I couldn’t kick the suspicion as I walked to work that morning, and before I could curb the impulse, my fingers were tapping out Cosima’s phone number.
“Hallo, my Lena,” she answered in a jaunty British manner, her voice filled with radiant happiness. She always sounded like that now, high on her life, grateful for every moment. “How is my favorite lawyer?”
The smile that pulled my lips over my teeth was inexorable. As if it was Cosima’s beautiful face, I cupped the phone tight to my cheek. “Hello, my beautiful Cosi. I’m fine. Just getting coffee before a long day of court and research. How are you?”
There was a deep voice in the background and then my sister’s breathy giggle. “Xan, stop it. I’m talking to Elena.”
“Tell her you’re busy,” he ordered, loud enough for me to hear. “Very busy.”
Cosima’s warm laughter spilled like honey through the line. “Sorry, Lena, you know Alexander. He can be sobossy.”
There was a throaty chuckle and then a shuffle as Cosima moved. “Let me just leave the room, or he won’t stop bothering me.”
“I’ll remember that next time you’re begging for me to make you come,” he yelled deliberately so I could hear.
A blush warmed my cheeks, and I groaned as I pushed open the doors of my favorite coffee shop and stood in line. “Oh my God, Cosi, I’ll just call you back.”
“No,” she demanded. “He’s gone now. I apologize. I know these kinds of things make you uncomfortable.”
I hesitated, picking at the side of a hangnail as I considered being honest with her. “I’m working on that, you know.”
Her voice was velvet, a soft place for my confessions to land. “Oh? With your therapist?”
“Yes, and Monica, she told me there is hope for me… I have surgery scheduled in two weeks. Apparently, post-op, I’ll be able to orgasm, and maybe…” I sucked in a shaky breath, almost afraid to say the words out loud as if they might dissipate forever like smoke in the air. “Maybe I’ll be able to conceive naturally one day too.”