Page 125 of Dagger in the Sea

“I’ll bet. My mother would get a kick out of this,” I murmured. I bought two jars.

“Do you need a gift for your father too?”

“The only thing my father wants me to bring home is Gennaro Aliberti’s consent.”

“Ah, yes.”

We continued walking through town.

“Do you like working with your father?” she asked.

“More likeforhim. It’s complicated between us.”

“I understand complicated,” she said. “Is he fatherly at least?”

“No. No, he’s not.”

“That’s too bad. I’m sorry.”

I shook off her sympathy. “It is what it is.”

Again, that brittle grin that understood what I was saying. “So you’ve been patient and responsible, proving yourself—”

“Over and over again.”

“But something is lacking for you?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“And you came to Greece in order to score points?”

“I came to fix his Gennaro problem.”

“You’re good at fixing, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Very.”

“I wouldn’t want to cross any of the Alibertis.”

“You’re aware of what the Alibertis do for a living back in Napoli?” I asked her.

“Of course I know who they are. Who doesn’t? But Alessio is not a part of their organization. He’s put a lot of hard work into his own business, and he’s created something unique and sought after. He’s his own success.”

Hisownsuccess.

A Fortinbras to my Hamlet.

I’d read how Alessio had taken his mother’s hole in the wall fashion accessories store in a shitty neighborhood in Naples and turned it into a chic, trendy, and very tony brand of his own. Granted, most probably with his father’s drug money to start and Luca’s ongoing protection, but he made it a success. With his own good looks, swagger, and playboy reputation, Alessio had only pushed his exclusive jewelry further, embodying the brand himself—tough, tattooed, raw street Italo-masculinity all wrapped up in Gucci and Prada and Dolce & Gabbana. The party in Mykonos had just made that very clear for all to see and taste.

“Even if you do bring home Gennaro’s acceptance, do you think your father will be grateful or will he belittle your success, just to spite you? Just because he can?” she asked.

“You sound like you’ve had experience with a difficult daddy.”

“Hmm. Alessio’s is, so’s mine.”

I put my arm around her shoulders and brought her close. “Yeah, mine too.”

We ordered twofreddoespressos at the Hermes Café. Sitting under a grove of thick trees in the center of the cobblestone paved town, watching the locals greet one another as they went to the bakery, the butcher, the shops. A modern, square, white building to our left with a large bronze plaque caught my attention. I read the bronze sign.

---