The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,50

when her intelligence was called into question, even in jest. “I’m just saying.”

“I know, I know. I’m just joking.” I stretched my legs out, digging my toes into the soft bathmat. Polpetto looked up at the movement, tail wagging. “I’m happy your happy,” I told her. “Truly.”

“I know. You’re happy, also?”

I smiled. “I am.”

“How are your attempts at taking back Chicago?” Elena asked, making an effort to talk about my life, even though she hated the city I called home.

I laughed softly. “The FBI are making it difficult.”

“Are they being trouble?”

“The opposite, actually.” I scratched Polpetto’s head, taking him into my arms. He curled up on my lap, belly up. “They’ve been quiet as mice.”

“Suspicious.”

“That’s what I think,” I murmured. “Maybe when I’m queen, you will consider coming back.”

“Will there be any Agostinos?”

“Of course.”

Elena laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Then I’m never coming back. Alive.”

“I’m sure you will outlive us all,” I said. “You can take care of Dante and Polpetto.”

“I hope they like New York,” she replied.

I yawned, cracking out my joints.

“I’ll let you go. Thanks for talking to me.”

“Anytime,” I said. “People are talking to you in New York, right? This isn’t the first human conversation you’ve had, right?”

I couldn’t see her face, so it made it hard to decipher if the answer she gave me was correct. “Like I said,” she answered, “I get left alone.”

We said our goodbyes, and I went back to bed. Polpetto darted straight for his bed, making himself comfortable before falling down dramatically and into an immediate deep sleep.

I crawled over the bed, tucking myself under the blankets. Instantly, Alessandro’s arm came around me.

“How’s your little friend?” His voice was groggy with sleep.

“Elena is fine. Safe, happy.” I buried my face into his neck, breathing him in. “You were right about Thaddeo. He’s not that bad.”

Alessandro made a noise of agreement before his breathing slowed back down, soft snores coming soon after.

I kissed him gently before closing my eyes and letting the rise and fall of his chest nurse me into dreamless sleep.

T he Historical Society welcomed Salisbury back with open arms, nothing but excited to have one of their beloved members return. To celebrate, I invited them to tour Sneaky Sal’s—minus Nicoletta’s attic and the moonshine tunnels turn dungeons.

I couldn’t imagine how they would all react to see the Outfit’s enemies locked away, to know that this speakeasy was housing some of the country’s worst criminals. Since Don Piero’s will was still up the air, no one challenged my claim to the speakeasy or allowing people to tour it.

A tour guide led us around, detailing the Prohibition era and what that meant for the mafia.

I smiled at the tour guide’s stories, feeling almost proud of my ancestors. Sometimes breaking the law was lucrative, and they figured that out quickly.

I was having a good time, talking to everyone, laughing off my ownership of Sneaky Sal’s. As it went on, I could see the late mayor growing more and more irritated. He hadn’t liked that I was the center of attention. So when Salisbury challenged me, I wasn’t that surprised. He was nothing if not predictable.

“Did you know that?” he said loudly to me in response to something the tour guide had said. His sticky smile was plastered on his face. “That the original owner of this speakeasy was part of the mafia?”

“Why wouldn’t she know that?” Mary Inada asked.

“Sophia is our newest member,” Salisbury replied, acting like he had somehow caught me unawares. “I was just making sure.”

I smiled. “Of course. That is what the tour guide just said. Did you know that moonshine was made out of paint?”

“Yes,” he said stiffly. “I did.”

“Just making sure.” I kept my smile bright, my eyes light, but my tone was sharp. “Oh, look at gorgeous painting!”

Everyone turned and buzzed over the piece of art I had pointed out. Stolen, but Don Piero had been arrogant enough to put his illegal goods on display. Who was going to take it away from him?

Because Salisbury had made a power play, I decided to show him what I had been doing while he was sulking in his bedroom. I looped my arms with the Inadas and fussed over Esperanza’s birthday party. Whenever I caught him about to open his mouth, I quickly started a conversation, making it clear that I may be the newest member, but I was by far the most loved.

Eventually, Salisbury fell to the back of the pack, mute.

My phone rang,