The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,36

my son, and Nicoletta, who up until recently had been presumed dead.

I soon found myself with Nicoletta and Ophelia.

“You two are both okay?” I asked, then added in Italian, “Nicoletta, do you have everything you need?”

She smiled and nodded, “I do, I do.”

Ophelia agreed. “We’re fine over here. Except for Mr Creepy in the shadows.”

I glanced over her shoulder at Nero. He caught my eyes and jerked his head in annoyance, like I was giving away his position, not the fact that he was 6’3” of menace.

To Ophelia, I said, “Shall I get one of the boys to kick him out?”

“No, it’s fine,” she said stiffly. “Nicoletta is convinced he—”

“What is she doing here?” Nicoletta suddenly snapped.

I turned to where she was pointing. Eloise Pelletier had also seen Nicoletta and was heading through the crowds toward us.

Uh oh.

Nicoletta rose from her piano, almost like she was getting ready to fight Eloise. Both women could hardly get out of bed without help, so I couldn’t imagine they could do any real damage to each other. But still, I tried to diffuse the situation.

“Nicoletta, how about you—”

Eloise reached us, cutting me off. “Filthy Rocchettis,” she hissed in English.

I turned to Nicoletta, ready to translate, but in perfect English, she said, “Filthy Pelletiers. How dare you show your face in my husband’s city?”

“You can speak English?” was the only thing Ophelia could focus on. She was ignored by both women.

“Your husband’s city?” Eloise barked a laugh. “As long as I own Jean’s Bend, this city will never fully belong to him.”

He’s dead, I wanted to point out, but didn’t.

“Mark my words, you French bitch,” Nicoletta hissed, her Italian accent abruptly strong. “The city belongs to the Rocchettis and no Pelletier will ever threaten that—not again.”

“We’ll see,” laughed Eloise. “My brother took your daughter and he will take the rest of you. He’s out of jail, now, does your son know that?”

Nicoletta looked to me like I could confirm this information.

Don Piero’s voice skidded through my head. Pelletier’s son has just got out, he had said in that tape. He got a reduced sentence for ratting out the Union.

Does Toto know that? Carlos Sr had asked.

You can tell him, brother, had been Don Piero’s reply.

What had Eloise screamed the first time we had met? Get out before my brother kills you—just like he did your no-good sister!

The words hadn’t really sunk in, since I was too busy trying to calm her down.

My brother took your daughter...

To Eloise, all us Rocchettis must be the same. I doubted there were in-laws in her mind. Just people who were Rocchettis and people who weren’t.

I could feel the pieces beginning to fit together, the image becoming clearer.

I heard from the maid in Toto the Terrible’s house that she was involved with a French man! When the Outfit was at war with the Corsican Union, Dita’s voice flew through my head.

This wasn’t going to end well.

I reached out to Nicoletta, grabbing her gently but firmly by the shoulders. “That is enough now, ladies,” I murmured. “This is a public event, not the parking lot of a supermarket. Let us separate and cool down.”

I tried to signal to some of the Sunny Days staff to come and help, but none of them seemed to notice.

Eloise stepped forward but I held up a hand. “Save your threats, using your traitor of a brother, for somebody else.”

Her nostrils flared. “My brother is no traitor.”

“He is a rat who sold out the Union for a reduced sentence,” I told her, not unkindly. Finally, one of the Sunny Days nurses spotted us and came bustling over.

Nicoletta went to say something, but I tightened my grip on her. “That’s enough, Nicoletta,” I said.

Her eyes flickered to me, a strange look in them. “Okay,” she said like she couldn’t really believe she was saying it. Her eyes went to my wedding ring and her brow furrowed but she didn’t say anything.

I hid my hand in my skirts.

“Nonna,” came the familiar voice of Alessandro. His eyes met mine, despite him calling for his grandmother. Everything okay? they seemed to ask.

I nodded. “Nicoletta, how about you show Alessandro your new song?”

The Sunny Days nurse was trying to coax Eloise to step away, but the fierce French woman was not moving.

She set her jaw, eyeing me coldly. “My brother is no rat,” she said. “He was a murderer but not a rat.”

In this world, being a murderer was much more preferred than being a rat.

The next moment, my assistant