The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,65

Toto the Terrible’s house that she was involved with a French man! When the Outfit was at war with the Corsican Union.

Danta’s body had been found on Pelletier land.

The Corsican Union vs Outfit war had ended in the 80s, after nearly destroying Chicago. It was only spoken about with fear. No one wanted that war to happen again.

Danta, my mother-in-law, had given herself to Pelletier in hopes that the Union would leave the Outfit alone. In exchange, he had killed her...but the war had ended soon after, with the Outfit coming out on top.

Danta had sacrificed her reputation, her life. She had been buried in a non-Catholic cemetery, had endured whispers and names. But really, she had done all that she could to make sure that her boys were safe.

I pressed a gentle hand to Nicoletta’s head. She looked up at me.

“It has always been the Rocchetti women,” I confirmed, the truth as clear as daylight.

Later that night, after everyone had left, I found my phone. I had stashed it in the bedroom before the party. The screen was bright with a missed voicemail.

Alessandro came behind me, carrying a sleeping Dante in his arms. “Everything okay, my love?”

“Mmhmm.” I unlocked my phone, eyeing the unknown number. When I clicked on it, a familiar voice filled the room.

“If you want the baby, go to the church where you were married. Come alone or we will not hand him over.”

It ended with a click.

I looked to Alessandro. He was already staring at me.

We knew what we had to do.

T he only light in the church came from the streetlamps.

Darkness cast over the statues and arches, shadows of falling snowflakes moving over the pews. Inside was nearly as cold as outside, my fingers numb as soon as they pressed down on the heavy doors and pushed inside.

At the end of the church, half-hidden behind the statue of the Virgin Mary, was my sister. Catherine stood tall, holding a bundle of blankets to her chest.

The door slammed behind me, echoing.

She turned to me, golden hair gleaming as it caught the light.

My footsteps echoed through the church as I made my way to her, steady and slow. This was not the time to show desperation, not to rush. Catherine would pounce on the first sign of weakness.

“What is in your hands?” she asked, voice startlingly loud.

“I brought you a gift.”

Catherine jerked her chin. “Put it down on the ground.”

I didn’t.

Instead, I held it up, showing the photograph. Months ago, I had found out she had secretly gone to college. At the time, it had been huge—but now it felt minuscule. Still, I had kept the photographs I ordered, unable to find it in myself to give them up.

Her lips parted. “My graduation photos.”

I laid them down on the ground, moving them closer to her with my foot. “My nephew?”

She nodded, passing me the bundle.

I pushed the blanket away from his face, trying not to let my cold fingers upset him. Adelasia’s son was gorgeous and healthy. He looked like his father—meaning he looked like a Rocchetti.

I rocked him in my arms, “It’s okay, my darling,” I murmured. “You’re safe now. You’re with your family.”

“I didn’t know,” my sister said suddenly.

I looked up at her.

She rocked back and forth on her heels. “I didn’t know that the FBI was going to take him.”

“You seem surprised.” I scanned her face. “Did you know they also killed Adelasia?”

Catherine blinked. “No, we didn’t kill her. We got a tip from the hospital that she was there and went to see if you guys showed up.”

“And stole her baby?”

“She was gone by then,” my sister said. “We thought she had abandoned the baby. She left without being seen.”

I looked down at my nephew, trying to see any hint of Adelasia in him. There was none. “Why should I believe you?”

“I don’t know. But I am telling the truth.”

Suddenly, there was a loud slamming of a door. “Cat!”

I snapped my eyes to hers. “Telling the truth, are we?”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t tell them I was coming.”

Dupont came skidding into the church from the back door, face flushed pink from the cold. A few FBI agents followed him, nodding to Catherine in greeting.

Dupont made to go toward us, but I said, “Take another step and I will tell the soldato outside your mother’s home to kill her.”

Dupont paused. He didn’t move. He knew we had visited his mother and he knew I was not making an empty threat.

His eyes went down