Mafiosa

‘Do you like it?’ She did a twirl. ‘Cris got it for me. Turns out he’s stinking rich.’

I arched a brow. ‘He just gets better by the day.’

She shrugged. ‘It compensates for his obsession with mindfulness colouring books.’

I shut the door behind her and she lowered her voice, the joviality seeping away. ‘How has it been here?’

‘Still the same,’ I told her quietly. I ushered her upstairs towards my room, where we would have privacy.

‘It must be especially hard at Christmas,’ she said, following me up. ‘Are you sure you’re OK to stay here? You’re still grieving for your mum. Maybe this place isn’t the right home for you at the moment. You know you can always come to the cottage with me and my family, right? We’re not leaving until later …’

‘Mil, I really appreciate it—’

‘But …’ she cut in, sensing my hesitation.

‘I need to be here with everyone. They’re my family now.’ I conveniently left out the second part of my reasoning: the Marino Massacre. By this time tomorrow, the death toll would have risen. Every time I thought about the potential casualties on our side, it made me feel sick, so I pushed it away.

‘How is Luca coping?’ Millie asked delicately. I shut the door to my room and we both dropped on to the bed.

As a boss? Exceedingly good. As a normal guy grieving his brother? Terrible. ‘He’ll be OK. We don’t really talk about it.’ The rest was too painful to admit. We don’t really talk about anything any more.

‘And you’re staying out of trouble?’ Millie asked. ‘All that stuff in the newspaper about the blood war …’

‘I told you, it’s nonsense.’ I waved away her concern. ‘Zola had a grudge and tried to settle it. She’s dead. So it’s over now.’

‘Are you safe?’ She shuffled closer, studying me. ‘Tell me you’re safe.’

‘I’m safe,’ I lied. ‘Safer than you, probably. You might get eaten by a bear at your cottage.’

She smiled grimly. ‘Don’t even joke about that. You know I have zero survival skills.’

Unlike me, I thought.

‘I feel sad,’ she said after a moment. ‘Isn’t that strange? I’m only leaving for a few days, but I feel sad that you’ll be here and I’ll be there. Why do I feel so sad?’

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. ‘It’s a sad house, that’s all. It’s this atmosphere. Try not to let it get to you. It’s Christ-mas. There’s no reason for you to be sad.’ I blinked away the threat of tears. The truth was, I didn’t know for sure if I would see Millie again after today. I didn’t know if I would end up in jail, or in the ground. I didn’t know anything any more. I just knew I was walking into the Marino house with my family and helping to put an end to all the wrongdoing we had suffered at their hands.

‘We’ll be happy in the new year,’ Millie said, the promise of it shimmering in her eyes. ‘Just hang in there a little longer and then we’ll get out of Chicago.’

‘Yes.’ The word was thick in my throat. ‘Of course we will.’

‘I got you this.’ She reached inside her coat and pulled out a present. ‘I hope you like it.’

I reached under the bed and fished her present out, too. ‘It’s not much,’ I said sheepishly, handing it over. It was just a scarf and gloves, and some funny socks. She deserved better. ‘I’m pretty broke and I’ve been confined to online shopping ever since Valentino passed away.’

Millie ripped open her present and buried her head in the scarf. ‘I love it,’ she whooped, wrapping it around her twice and then taking the gloves to try them on. ‘These are beautiful. I hope you didn’t overspend.’

I snorted. ‘I appreciate the overenthusiasm.’

She swatted a glove at me. ‘Open your gift.’

I opened the purple wrapping paper and a small Mason jar tumbled out. It had a purple cloth lid, and a heart hanging off the twine that encircled it.

‘It’s not honey,’ she said quickly. ‘Don’t freak out.’

I picked it up and read the heart aloud. ‘The Happy Jar,’ I said, glancing at her. ‘To be used when you are feeling sad or when you are experiencing Millie withdrawal symptoms.’

I shook it. There were loads of tiny folded-up pieces of paper inside.

‘They’re memories, mostly,’ said Millie. ‘But some are our dreams for the future. And other ones are just compliments that will cheer you up. Like “You have the hair of a fairytale mermaid princess.” Stuff like that.’

I opened the lid, and shook one piece on to my hand.

‘Just one!’ she said, snatching the jar from me and closing it again. ‘You can’t read them all at once. They’re supposed to last for a little while at least.’

Duly scolded, I unfolded the paper and read the memory scribbled across it.

‘Remember that time we snuck into an R-rated movie and when we got caught you told the usher we were twenty-seven because you thought overcompensating would throw him off? He kicked us out and you threatened to sue him for age discrimination.’

I started giggling. ‘I had forgotten about that.’

Millie was laughing too. ‘You were so indignant, I almost believed you myself!’

‘Can I read one more?’ I asked hopefully.