“No. It’s not.”

I was startled at the sound of my brother’s voice.

“It’s not too late,” he said. “Time doesn’t matter, Pops. Moretti will eventually find out we know about the crime he committed. And what then? We’ll look weak for not responding. For all we know, he wants Paige Bianchi because he realizes she saw too much. I say, we send him a message. Now. Don’t wait, because, as you said, he’s gaining power here in the States. Who knows what he will do next?”

Wow. Good old Dominic stepped up for a cause.

“I don’t know,” Pops grumbled.

That was something he rarely said. Our father had it all together. He had an answer for every situation.

“What on earth is going on? I can hear your conversation on the other side of the house!”

My mother glided into the room, her long and flowing floral dress wafting about her like a cloud. Her dark hair was twisted up on the top of her head, not a strand out of place. Always beautiful. Always put together. I’d never known another version of her.

“Sorry Mom,” Dominic said. “We were just…”

“I know what you were doing. Like I said, I heard everything… And I agree with Dominic.”

My heart did a little hopeful flip. Mom never got involved in these matters. Her move to take a vocal stand with Dominic and me gave us a better chance.

“Dominic put it perfectly,” she said directly to Pops. “Moretti is clever. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a cruel bastard, just like his father.”

“Don’t say that,” my father gruffly replied.

She turned her face and peered sideways at him, silently questioning. “Have you forgotten about everything the Moretti’s did in Sicily?”

He shifted in his seat. “No.”

I exchanged a quick glance with Dominic, but he betrayed nothing.

I knew a bit about the Moretti family past. They were a bad-to-the-bone organized crime family, virtually the top of the food chain in Italy and, had been making moves to have a stronger presence in America. My mother’s family operated on par, and sometimes in league, with them.

But the two families had their difficulties. No one in our family talked about it, but I had heard whisperings that one or more of Mom’s relatives had been victims of the Moretti’s greed and desperation to rise through the power ranks.

“Don’t even say that I’m biased because of my uncles,” she added. “I’m not. ‘The Pistol’ is dangerous. He needs to be taken care of.”

Pops lifted his palms up. “I understand, but we need to think of our own first.”

“I am,” she persisted. “The first thing I always think about is my children.”

“Digging around in the past like this is only going to open up other wounds. It won’t be the only issue to manage.”

“Fine. I’ll speak with Mario. He will have something to say about this, I’m sure.”

This was a step in the right direction. Mario was Pops’ consiglieri, his advisor. Pops only went to him when he was serious about making a decision.

This time, when I caught Dominic’s eye he winked at me.

“I need to think carefully about this,” Pops said pensively, almost as if to himself. He rubbed his chin and stared at the coffee table.

“How soon, do you think?”

“Give me a few days. Be patient. We cannot afford to be hasty about this. Just ask your mother.”

Her lips pursed. “Yes. We need to be smart about how we approach the Moretti’s.”

Mom clasped her hands together. “Who’s staying for lunch?”

“Sorry Mom,” Dominic answered. “I have to get back.”

“Me too,” I apologized. “Sorry.”

“Okay,” she said, coming over to kiss each of us. “You’re both busy, I know.”

“Lunch next week?” I asked.

She took my chin in her hand and shook it a little bit, like she did when I was twelve.

“Be good,” she said, and breezed out of the room.

Dominic and I stayed where we were. Our father hadn’t moved from his seat, which meant he wasn’t yet done with us.

Pops tapped one finger against the armrest. “Angelo,” he said. “I can’t help shake the feeling that we’re about to put everything you’ve been working so hard to build for our family on the line for a woman.”

“I hope not.”

“Yes… Me too, son.”

“Hold on a second,” Dominic said, and let out a long breath.

“What?” I asked.

He stood staring down at his phone for a long few seconds. Panic gripped me.

“What?” I demanded again.

The slowest smile ever rose up on Dom’s chest. “I don’t believe it.”

Pops got to his feet. “Dominic, what the hell is going on?”

He finally tore his gaze from his phone. “Talk about bad luck and timing. There’s been a hit on Moretti… in Sicily…Palermo, to be exact.”

“What? He’s dead?”

Dominic shook his head in disbelief. “That’s usually what happens after a hit.”

“By who?” Pops demanded.

Dominic shrugged. “As of right now, no one knows. He was shot in broad daylight leaving his condo there.”

“Where are you getting this information?”

He shook his phone in our direction. “From an associate.”

‘Associate’ didn’t explain much. But then again, neither did Dom.

I couldn’t unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. The news was too good to be true. Premature and anti-climactic. I wanted to have a chance at him. To put up a real fight and come out the other end on top. I should be thanking my blessings that someone took the problem away for us.

Dominic started typing away on his phone.

I looked over at Pops. “Is this...”

“Do you want to know if it’s good news for Paige?” He slowly nodded. “I suppose so. I didn’t hear of any other agreement in place if Moretti died.”

“That’s good news.”

“Probably, but tread carefully until we find out. Don’t go passing on any news until I talk to some people.”

“I won’t.”

Free. Paige was free. Hopefully.

“I’ll go tell your mother,” Pops said, and he left the room.

Dominic slipped his phone into his pants pocket. “What do you think?”

“I shouldn’t be surprised. Some of the other families probably had a few contracts out on him.”

“I don’t think so.”

“How would you know?”

He shrugged. “It’s my business to know.”

Whatever. Moretti was dead. Paige was likely a free woman. Anything else was just unimportant details.

“You two lovebirds can go back to your little mafia princess romance,” Dominic joked as his phone buzzed again.

“Don’t even go there. I’m going to say goodbye to Mom,” I told him, leaving him standing there texting.

* * *

I couldn’t resist Mom’s offer of a plate of cannoli. Half an hour later, Dominic was still around waiting at the front door for me.

“What? You need a ride?” I asked.

He smirked. “I can’t believe the timing. It’s just too perfect.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Way too perfect.”

Something about his voice told me he knew more. “What?”

Dominic ran his thumb across his lip and grinned. “Oh, nothing. I’m not suggesting this was anything but dumb luck… But guess where Sophie B did a DJ gig last night?”

“Where?”

“Palermo.”

I let that sink in.

Western Europe Burn Unit. Dominic had told me Sophia was a part of it. I nearly forgot about that little tidbit he had dropped.

I knew very little about the Western Europe Burn Unit, but they weren’t a medical organization. They weren’t a non-profit. Specifically, they took care of difficult problems, which was Dominic’s department.

“Damn,” I hissed. “Wow. Are you suggesting...”

He cut me off. “I’m not suggesting anything.”

“Right.”

“All I’m saying is you might want to be careful how you treat Paige. Her sister is not someone to mess with. Or is she your future sister-in-law?” Dominic asked.

“Uh...”

He winked and jingled the keys in his pocket. “After everything you’ve done to protect Paige, she better be the one. Especially now that Pops knows.”

Dominic turned and left through the front door.

I looked out at his car as he left, scratching my head.