Mother watched me with widened eyes, uncomprehending. “Don’t talk about your father like that. He was the best husband I could have imagined and an even better father. He deserves nothing but our respect.”

That was a lie. Father hadn’t been the worst father, but he had been a far cry from a good one. He’d been too busy with his work, and often too impatient to spend time with his two chatty daughters. I’d loved him, and I missed him. I wished he were still alive, and I’d forgiven him for what he’d done because he surely couldn’t have fathomed where it would lead.

“I don’t want to fight,” I said quietly, squeezing Mother’s hand. “I know you’re grieving, but eventually you’ll realize that Father did this to us.”

Mother stared. She didn’t protest again, but I could tell that she wasn’t ready to admit Father’s faults yet. His death was still too raw.

I decided to change the topic. “I know what you’re doing, that you’re talking to New York on Falcone’s behalf.”

“How?” Mother whispered.

“Growl told me. But that’s not important. Are you making progress?”

Mother shook her head. “I haven’t even talked to Luca Vitiello yet. It’s difficult to get through to him. New York doesn’t want anything to do with us.” Mother touched her forehead. “I can’t fail. If I do, Falcone will hurt your sister. I don’t know what to do.”

“Keep trying. There has to be a way to get through to Luca Vitiello. I’m sure.”

Mother nodded. “Perhaps. I sent his wife a letter. I hear she’s kind. She might be our last chance.”

“Don’t give up. We’ll figure something out,” I said firmly, trying to convey with my eyes that I was working on a plan.

Mother’s brows drew together, but she didn’t ask what I meant. She was a clever woman. We had to be careful what we said aloud.

She pointed at the sandwiches piled up on the étagère. “I made them myself. Something to keep myself busy. And I miss cooking for all of you.”

I grabbed a salmon sandwich and took a bite, then smiled. “It’s delicious.”

Mother leaned back in her chair and watched me eat another sandwich. I swallowed the last bite, then asked, “I’ve been wondering, why did you even leave New York and your family? You were part of the leading family, after all. You could have led a great life there.”

New York might be the enemy, but there was no way they could be worse than the Camorra.

Mother looked tired. “I was. But my brother was the Capo, and he was as bad as Falcone. Of course, back then I didn’t know how cruelly Falcone ruled in Las Vegas, or perhaps I would have stayed in New York.” Then she smiled sadly and shook her head. “Though I was head over heels in love with your father and would have followed him anywhere.”

I touched her hand. “How did you two even meet if Father was one of Falcone’s men? New York and Las Vegas hated each other back then too, didn’t they?”

Mother nodded. “Oh yes, they did. But Falcone had only just been made boss, and his father still had some say in the city. And the old man wanted to try to make peace with New York, so they sent your father because he always knew how to be diplomatic. Falcone would have ruined everything if he’d tried to do the negotiations himself.”

“But they didn’t make a peace treaty, did they?”

“No. Salvatore and Falcone were too alike. They both wanted to have the last say, so nothing came of your father’s visit in New York.”

“You two fell in love.”

“Yes, yes. In the three weeks that he was in town, he completely captured my heart. I begged my parents to let me marry him, but of course they refused, and Salvatore was furious that I’d even suggested such a horrible thing. He chose someone else for me, but I wanted nobody but Brando, and so your father took me home with him, and told Salvatore that he’d done it as revenge for insulting Falcone. I’m not sure if Falcone believed the story, but he was happy to taunt Salvatore like that, and so your father and I married two days after we’d left New York. The party was the story in every newspaper in Las Vegas and beyond. Peace was out of the question after that. Falcone got exactly what he wanted, and so did your father and I. It seemed like the perfect solution at the time.”

“Do you think the head of the Famiglia, that Luca Vitiello, would allow us to stay in New York?” I asked in a bare whisper.

Mother touched my cheek. “I don’t know. I only saw him and his brother once when they were small boys.”

“You visited them? But I thought that was forbidden?”

“Oh, it was. But Salvatore’s wife and I really liked each other. I always felt sorry for her because she had to marry my sadistic brother. And once, when I was pregnant with you, I was in Aspen at the same time as Salvatore’s wife. She was there with the kids and so we met in secret. We’d been talking on the phone regularly, but that was the first time we met since I’d run off. It was wonderful. And the boys were real cuties, though it was unmistakable that my brother was their father. They were too controlled and serious for boys that young. Especially Luca gave me the chills sometimes.”

“Perhaps he will remember you and help us. It’s our best chance.”

“It is,” she agreed, then her expression turned almost frightened. “Do you know where they took your father’s body? I can’t bear the thought that Falcone gave him to his dogs as food. It breaks my heart. He doesn’t deserve that.”

I patted her arm. “Growl told me that someone buried Father in the desert. They didn’t feed him to the dogs.”

Mother’s shoulders sagged in relief.

But suddenly I wondered if Growl had told me the truth. There was no way I could know. I had to trust his word.

Time passed too fast with my mother and I reminiscing about old times, family vacations, wondrous memories that would never take place again.

When we heard Growl’s car pull up in the driveway, Mother pulled me against her body and whispered in my ear, “You are such a good girl. I don’t know how I deserve you. Be strong, sweetheart. Don’t let that monster break you.”

“I won’t,” I promised automatically. She watched me with love and pity, and I had to look away. If she knew, what I’d done and what I was doing…

I could never tell her.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Cara

I barely glanced Growl’s way as we headed back to his house. He shot me a questioning look. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said harshly, then bit my lip. I didn’t know what to do. I needed Growl to be on my side, and my body wanted him, but I was going against everything my mother had taught me by sleeping with him.

Growl’s hands on the steering wheel tightened, the tendons in his forearms flexing, but he didn’t push the matter. I usually initiated our conversations, so it didn’t come as a surprise that he accepted the tense silence between us.

I focused on the window, on the flashy neon signs advertising casinos and hotels. My mind was whirring with what I’d learned today about my mother’s family, about my family. I needed Growl if I wanted any chance to help my mother and sister, if I wanted any chance to escape from Las Vegas and find shelter in New York, but I wasn’t sure how to do it. Growl would never help me if it meant losing me, or his position as Enforcer of the Camorra. He was proud of his job. The only way he’d support me was if I promised to stay with him, and asked him only to help my sister and mother, but even that seemed unlikely.