The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,51

Alessandro’s name lighting up the screen. I excused myself, disappearing down familiar halls for some privacy.

“Having fun?” Alessandro asked.

I made my way up the stairs, laughing. “A blast. What about you and Dante?”

“We’re good. I just put him down.”

I checked the time on my phone. “So soon?”

“It’s twenty minutes until his nap, Sophia,” Alessandro reminded me gently. “He was ready to go to sleep.”

They’re fine, I told myself. Alessandro is not stupid. Giving up control of Dante to my husband had been an unexpectedly hard thing to do, but I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Dante was as much Alessandro’s son as mine.

“If you’re growing bored, you can come home,” Alessandro said. “Dante will sleep for another hour. We could entertain ourselves.”

I rolled my eyes. Alessandro was insatiable. “Is that right? You’re going to be able to entertain me with your bum knee?”

He cursed his father. “I could make it work.”

I laughed and stepped into Nicoletta’s attic. Sheets covered the leftover furniture, dust beginning to form.

“Have you heard from your brother?” I asked.

“Always plotting...” Alessandro sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “No, I haven’t, my love. He is probably melting somewhere.”

“It’s December.”

“Ah, well, then he got lost in the snow.”

Salvatore Jr had been very quiet—arguably too quiet. After Toto had agreed to support Alessandro and I, a strange sense of anticipation had begun to arise in the Outfit. Everyone knew that before the month was over, they would have their don, their king.

And after months without leadership, the Chicago Outfit was ready to welcome a new era.

Alessandro or Salvatore? Everyone seemed to be asking. Oldest or youngest?

I had gone to extreme lengths to make Alessandro and I look like the most favorable candidates. We had a son—an heir; I ran every social event in the family. Neither of us faltered, showed weakness.

But if my brother-in-law got the drop on us...if he managed to kill my husband...

I pressed a hand to my chest and leaned against the closest wall.

“My love, are you okay?” Alessandro asked from the other end of the phone. “You’ve gone quiet.”

“I’m worried about your brother.”

He sighed. “Me too.” He would’ve never admitted those words to anyone but me, and I held them tightly, comforted by his honesty.

“What do you think his next move is going to be?”

“I have no idea,” Alessandro said. “But it will be planned, meticulous.” Then he added, “Oscuro is with you?”

“He’s downstairs.”

My husband made a disapproving noise. “You should be with him at all times, Sophia. We are at war.”

“I’ll go get him now.” I made to step out of Nicoletta’s room but a shift in the dust made me pause.

Leading into the room was a pattern of footprints. They went from the door to the back of the attic, past the abandoned furniture.

That’s just your footprints, I told myself, before noticing my own heeled marks, which looked nothing like the foreign set.

“I don’t hear you going to get Oscuro,” Alessandro said.

“Just a moment,” I muttered, following the footprints. “Have you been in Nicoletta’s room—?”

I cut off with a scream.

“Sophia!”

The phone fell out of my hand, hitting the floor with a crack.

No, no, no.

I stumbled back, my heel catching in a sheet. My hands came to my mouth, cutting off the piercing cry that was coming from me.

It couldn’t be. There was no way.

just feet away, slumped like a ragdoll, surrounded in a pool of dried blood, was Adelasia di Traglia. She stared up at the ceiling, eyes empty and lifeless. Already her skin had begun to grey.

So young, so innocent, and now lying alone and lifeless in the speakeasy’s attic.

No way Don Piero would have kept her here. We couldn’t have missed her so easily, our scouts couldn’t have been so useless, Salvatore Jr was not stupid enough—

And yet, here she was.

There was a loud crash behind me and Oscuro came skidding into the room. “Shit, Alessandro called me, why—” He spotted Adelasia and fell quiet, face slack with shock. “That’s not good.”

No, it’s not good! I wanted to screech but couldn’t make a noise that wouldn’t lead to another scream. I covered my mouth, trying to swallow down the rising panic and nausea.

Oscuro bent down and picked up my phone. Alessandro was still on the line, his angry yelling audible. “Uh, sir…yeah, she is fine, but you need to get here. Now.” He looked to me. “Why? Uh...it’s best not to say over the phone, sir. You need to see it for yourself.”

That was