The Rocchetti Queen (The Rocchetti Dynasty Book 3)

by Bree Porter

  Nina spotted Aisling at Toto’s side and made an irritated noise. When she remembered she was sitting with me, she added, “Toto’s mistress looks beautiful.”

  I smiled. “Aisling always does.” Unable to help myself, I asked, “Do you not like her?”

  “I don’t like Toto,” she told me. “I’ll never forgive him for what he did to Danta.”

  “What did he do to her? I thought nothing was ever confirmed.”

  Nina set her jaw. “We live in the mafia; nothing is ever confirmed, but it is known.”

  I supposed that was a true enough statement. But it made my heart hurt to think that Aisling could be heading toward the same fate as Danta. Though, Toto had warned me the night of the SWAT raid...but there could’ve been a thousand reasons why he did that, and it did not negate him from being able to murder his wife.

  “Hopefully, wherever she is now, Danta is happy.”

  Nina nodded, eyes briefly misty. They had been so close, and I knew how it felt to lose someone close to you, someone you considered your best friend. I squeezed Nina’s hand in comfort.

  “Have you tried the cookies?” I asked her. “They’re delicious.”

  Across the room, I could see Alessandro showing Dante off. He held our son in the crook of his arm, face scrunched up as the men poked at his toes and belly.

  Nina gestured to them. “Everyone is very happy you had a son.”

  “I had little choice in the matter.”

  I caught the gleam in her eyes. “As a woman, a son is a very handy thing to have,” she told me. “Especially when the leadership is currently in such disarray. Having a son, an heir, is nothing but an advantage.”

  The hidden subtext beneath her words was easy to decipher. I smiled and held out my glass, “To more sons.”

  She clinked her glass with my own, “To more sons.”

  “Can Alessandro and I expect your family’s support when the time comes?”

  “My family was never going to be an issue,” Nina told me. She pointed to the di Traglia family. “But that one might.”

  I could only agree.

  The reception went off without a hitch. There were no bombs, so massacres. Only our family and the other Outfit members all celebrating my son’s baptism. I didn’t realize how much I had expected something to go horribly wrong until the last person left, and I took a deep relieved breath.

  Alessandro found me in the kitchen, helping the staff clean up the plates. When he entered, everyone else suddenly found somewhere else to be.

  “You scared them off,” I laughed, as he wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his head into my neck.

  “They probably think I’m going to have my way with you.”

  I turned my head into his. “A couple of weeks.”

  “Trust me, baby, I know.” He pressed his lips into the crook of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. “Everyone is gone.”

  “I know. Thank goodness. Do you think Dante had fun?”

  “The only thing Dante cares about is pooping and your boob,” Alessandro said.

  I jabbed him mockingly with my elbow, and he leaned out of the way, laughing. “Do you think everyone had a good time?”

  “I do. My father ate like ten of those cookies.”

  “I didn’t get to speak to him and Aisling,” I said. “I’ll go see Aisling tomorrow with Dante. Speaking of Dante, where is he?”

  My husband smiled against my shoulder. “Your son is with Dita.”

  “Oh, he’s my son now. What has he done?”

  “You’ll be able to smell it.”

  Not even a moment later, Dita came into the kitchen, holding Dante out. My son looked pleased with himself, which became clear when I saw his back. All up his backside was green poo. The smell swarmed the room, strong enough to make our eyes water.

  “Your son is a stinkbug,” Dita told me sharply.

  “He gets it from his father.” I cut my eyes to Alessandro. “I got up three times last night to feed him. It’s your turn.”

  My husband laughed but did as he was told.

  I found Aisling’s address by accident. She had never told me, but I had seen it on a letter once when I was going through her handbag for a Chapstick. I didn’t realize she hadn’t given me her address until I was standing outside a rundown apartment complex, with cracked windows and stained ceilings.

  “Is this the place, ma’am?” Oscuro asked, just as confused as me.

  I nodded. “Apartment 22.”

  Hopefully, Aisling answered and not someone else.

  I pushed the pram ahead, passing a cat with no eyes and a man smoking by the elevator. The elevator smelled like piss and creaked as it took us up the second floor.

  The second floor was no better, with dusty carpets and flickering lights. Oscuro looked like he was going to scoop Dante and I up and fling us out the window. When my foot stepped into something wet, I almost allowed him to do so.

  We reached Aisling’s apartment, the door freshly painted a bright red, causing it to stand out in the hallway.

  I knocked.

  Oscuro shifted on his feet, glancing around, like one of the cockroaches was a threat to my life.

  The door swung open and a little voice piped up, “Who are you?”

  I looked down, blinking rapidly. Looking up at me, no older than seven or eight, was a red-headed little girl, with big green eyes and freckles cast over her pale skin. She wore a private school uniform, but her shoes were nowhere to be seen, leaving her in flower-patterned socks.

  “I’m Sophia,” was all I could think to say.

  “Nora!” called a familiar voice. “Baby, what have I told you about opening the door—?” Aisling came into view, looking comfortable in faded jeans and green shirt with holes in the collar.

  Her eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw me. “Sophia?”

  I waved. “Hi.”

  Aisling blinked a few times before coming forward and resting a hand on her...daughter’s?... head. “Sophia, what...what are you doing here?”

  “I came to pay you a visit. Is this a bad time?”

  “No,” Nora piped up. “Murder She Wrote just finished.”

  Aisling nodded in agreement with her daughter. “Of course not. Come in, come in. Hi Oscuro.”

  He nodded, “Miss Shildrick.”

  Inside the apartment was nothing like the hallway. Aisling had gone to great lengths to make the place feel homey. The walls were freshly painted, and all the furniture was chosen with care. Pictures of Nora and Aisling, paired with drawings, were scattered around the apartment.

  Aisling ushered us to the green kitchen, telling me to ignore the dirty plates piled up and all of Nora’s schoolwork.

  “Aisling, I really did not mean to intrude,” I said.

  Nora had come over and was peering inside the pram, her red braids falling forward. Before I could warn her, Dante’s little hand stuck out and reached for her hair. She darted back, laughing, “Silly baby!” she gently scolded.

  Aisling flicked on the kettle, leaning a hip against the counter. She looked so different than usual, so much more relaxed. Nothing like the dressed-up mistress that Toto the Terrible paraded around.

  “It’s no trouble,” she said. “Nora, baby, why don’t you go and show Oscuro your artwork?”

  Nora brightened. She turned to my bodyguard, commanding, “Come on, Mr Oscuro!” He followed, but not before checking the locks on the windows and doors.

  When they were gone, Aisling leaned forward, eyes wide. “Has something happened to Salvatore? Is that why you’re here?”

  “No, no, nothing like that,” I assured her. “I should have called. I... This is terribly rude.”

  “You’re fine. Just...” Aisling glanced at the hallway where Nora and Oscuro had disappeared. “Don’t say anything about her. To anyone.”

  “Did the McDermotts know...?”

  “No.” She poured me some tea. “Nobody needs to know.” Including the Rocchettis, is
what she didn’t add but implied.

  I had so many questions. They bubbled up inside of me, but I kept my mouth closed. Aisling would tell me if she wanted to. “Your secret is safe with me.” Then I added, “She seems wonderful.”

  Aisling’s eyes softened. “She’s a good kid. Top of her class, always winning awards and stuff.”

  “I can tell.” I gestured to all the certificates on the fridge.

  Dante gurgled from the pram.

  “Can I?” Aisling asked.

  I nodded, and she scooped him up, rocking him in her arms. “Oh, they’re so lovely when they’re this little,” she murmured. “And they smell so nice. They don’t smell like this forever, so enjoy it.”

  “You should have smelled him yesterday,” I laughed.

  Aisling grinned. “It is nice when they are potty-trained,” she admitted, then looked down at Dante. “But you are so cute that I forgive you for it.”

  Dante seemed pleased by the attention and gurgled happily in her arms.

  I couldn’t help myself, so I asked, “So my father-in-law really has no idea? Does he suspect or anything?” Toto the Terrible was not an idiot. Surely, he would have noticed if his mistress had a child.

  “No. And to keep her safe, I am not going to tell him,” she said.

  “How did you keep such a large secret?”

  Aisling smiled briefly. “I have been trained to be a mistress since I was a child. Lying to rich men is as easy as breathing for me.”

  I couldn’t fault that. In fact, I was very impressed. “Well, color me impressed.”

  “Thank you.” She mockingly bowed. “Are you hungry? I can offer you a PB&J sandwich...or a sandwich with PB&J.”

  “Both sound delicious.”

  Aisling passed me back Dante to make up lunch. I couldn’t help but notice the scarcity of food in the fridge and cupboards. I wasn’t going to bring it up—that would be extremely rude—but my concern for her was beginning to outweigh my politeness.

  “Where does Nora go to school?” I asked.

  Aisling named one of the more prestigious academic schools in the area, which also cost a pretty penny. Was that where all Aisling’s money went?

  Then it occurred to me, how much money was Aisling living on? Most mistresses were spoiled, given expensive jewelry and flash cars. I had seen Toto give her luxurious gifts, but I had never seen her wear the same piece of jewelry twice. Was she pawning it? Selling it again?

  Whatever she was doing, it was clear that Aisling had high hopes for her daughter’s education. And at the end of the day, Aisling’s relationship with my father-in-law wasn’t any of my business.

  “Thank you for the tea,” I said. “It’s lovely.”

  She smiled at me and passed me a sandwich. “Thank you.” Then she yelled, “Nora, Oscuro! Lunch!”

  Nora came bounding into the kitchen, red hair flying. Oscuro followed more sedately, a sparkly unicorn sticker now on his shirt.

  “What do you say?” Aisling asked, as Nora took her lunch.

  “Thank you, Mommy,” she lilted. To my surprise, Nora got up at the counter beside me, shoving aside books to make room for her plate.

  We all ate our lunch without any complaints, mainly listening to Nora talk about school and how she planned to destroy (her word, not mine) Madison Reed in tomorrow’s science test.

  “Whoever gets the highest score, gets a gold star,” Nora told us. “Madison already has three gold stars.”

  “How many do you have?” I asked.

  “Four,” she said. “And tomorrow I’ll have five.”

  “It’s good to share,” Aisling told her, but the smile on her face told me she didn’t really mind her daughter’s competitive streak.

  When lunch was done, I set Dante up on the ground, surrounded by toys. Nora lay on her back beside him, holding up things to show him. Oscuro hovered by the windows, making sure we were safe.

  While I helped Aisling clean up, I spotted a familiar row of prenatal vitamins. They were hard to miss since they were the only other thing on the shelf.

  There must be something in the Chicago water, I thought. Or maybe it was just the Rocchetti men.

  I tried to brush past them, offer Aisling some semblance of privacy, but she wasn’t stupid.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she told me.

  “You have to tell him eventually.”

  She sighed, looking tired. “I know, Sophia. I know.”

  I was struggling to imagine how Toto the Terrible would react to the news. He hadn’t shown much interest in Dante, and all his attention toward his sons depended on how bored he was. Would he be mad? Would he be fine with it? It’s not like the Rocchettis didn’t have any other illegitimate children running around.

  “He may be excited,” I offered but the words fell flat.

  Aisling gave me a look like she appreciated the effort. “Yeah, maybe,” she murmured. “But Nora’s dad wasn’t, so we’ll see.”

  I glanced at Nora, who was still entertaining Dante. The two seemed content. “Were you...”

  “Married?” She laughed. “No. I’ve never been married. Women like me don’t get married.”

  I flushed. “I’m sure Toto will still, uh, take care of you.” No, I wasn’t, and my tone made that clear.

  “I can look after myself,” Aisling assured me. “I’ll be fine. Soon, he will grow bored of me and I will be seduced by another mafioso looking for a good time outside of his marriage.”

  “You could come work for me,” I said before I could even think my offer through. “At Rocchetti Alzheimer’s Support. Be my assistant or something. You would earn a salary, get benefits.”

  She looked touched but regretful. “I can’t. I’m not meant to be in this country.”

  That was the case for a lot of mistresses, and I dropped the subject, not wanting to hear anything that could potentially harm her. “Well, if you two need anything, you just let me know.”

  Aisling bowed her head in thanks. When we were finishing up, she caught my wrist, saying, “This is not my place...but...”

  “Mm? What is it?”

  She bit her lip. “Do...do you know what happened to Danta?”

  The question surprised me. “I would have thought you know more than me. You and Toto are sharing a bed.”

  “He does not tell me things like that.”

  Then what do you talk about? I wanted to ask.

  “I know what everyone else knows, I suppose,” I said. “She ran off with someone who was not her husband and was never seen again. There are a lot of rumors but there isn’t any proof to any of them...”

  “What sort of rumors?” Aisling’s green eyes seemed to brighten in curiosity.

  “Uh, not great ones.” Should I tell her that my father-in-law might have killed his wife? Aisling wasn’t stupid but keeping her in the dark felt wrong. “Well, Dita—my father’s housekeeper—said she ran off with a French man, but Nina Genovese believes it was all just assumption and, uh, well, Toto killed her for it.”

  Aisling didn’t look frightened. I imagined she had probably heard worse things during her time with the mafia. “What do you believe?”

  I remembered the painting of Danta, how her eyes had been savagely crossed out and the words BLOODY WHORE had been scratched across her forehead. Was that the behavior of a man who would kill his wife? Toto was not known for his ability to be reasonable, so did I think he killed Danta?

  I didn’t not believe he killed Danta.

  Aisling picked up on my expression and sighed deeply. “It’s all just speculation.” She sounded like she was trying to assure herself more than me. “He’s never given me a reason to think he might hurt me.”

  Really? I wanted to laugh but held back. “You’re not married, so maybe...”

  “He will go easy on me if I run off with a French man?” Slight humor crossed her face. “What a relief.”

  I forced myself to laugh. “Just stay away from the Corsican Union,” I joked but it fell
flat.

  “I do try to,” she mused. Then her expression sobered slightly. “Saison...Saison has returned to the Union.”

  “It’s better than being killed.”

  Aisling nodded in agreement.

  My phone buzzed, and I quickly glanced at it. It was from Elena, telling me she was hours away from her wedding and would call me when she could.

  “Elena?” Aisling asked when she saw my expression.

  “Yes. She’s getting married today.” I typed back my response, trying to sound as comforting as possible.

  “I lived in New York with the Ó Fiaich’s for a few years,” Aisling said, “and they never had a bad word to say about the Falcones.”

  I appreciated her attempt to make me feel better but instead I asked, “You lived in New York?”

  “When I first came to the States,” she said. “I couldn’t have been older than nineteen.”

  My stomach cramped thinking about young Aisling in the hands of the Irish Mob, alone and unprotected. “Were you...?”

  “A mistress?” She didn’t seem upset with the question. “Of course. That’s all I have ever been trained to be.”

  “There’s training involved?”

  Aisling smiled. “You were trained to be a wife, weren’t you? I suppose my training was a little less Catholic than yours, but yes, training was involved.”

  “Who trained you?”

  “My mother,” she said. “She was a mistress her entire life, as was my grandmother. We’re not smart, or wealthy, but we’re beautiful. That’s what she always used to say.”

  I looked to Nora, who was now reading to Dante.

  “Nora’s not going to carry on the Shildrick women’s legacy,” Aisling said quietly. “She’s going to go to college, to be someone, and earn her own money. Not be some rich man’s plaything.”

  Despite her words, there was no bitterness in her tone. She sounded determined for her daughter, but more accepting of her own role in life. Aisling had been a mistress her entire adult life, it sounded like. Perhaps she had given up hope that there was anything more for her.

  I squeezed her hand. “She’s lucky to have you.”

  Surprise fluttered over her face, and her cheeks reddened. Instead of saying anything, she bowed her head in thanks.