The Rocchetti Queen (The Rocchetti Dynasty Book 3)

by Bree Porter

  “M r Oscuro?” Nora repeated, her question met with silence.

  I swallowed, stepping forward, and picking up the phone. I felt Alessandro’s burning gaze on me as I said, “Hi, Nora, darling. Can you tell your mom to call me?”

  “Hi Miss Sophia!” she chirped. “I beat Madison!”

  “That’s lovely, dear. I have to go. But remember to tell your mom.”

  “Okay, okay.” Nora hung up on me.

  Slowly, I turned back to the men. Alessandro didn’t look angry or happy: more confused. Toto looked like he was experiencing every emotion known to man, to the point where his expression was scrunched up like he had just smelled a really bad fart.

  Then, very slowly, Toto asked, “Who was that?” His attention went to Oscuro.

  Oscuro didn’t speak.

  “I asked you a question, boy,” seethed Toto. “You will do as you are told.”

  “Oscuro does not listen to you.” This was Alessandro. He shoved his hands into his pockets, unbothered by the growing bruises forming on his skin and blood dripping from his nose. “He listens to me.”

  Oscuro nodded.

  Then, my husband asked, “Oscuro, who was that on the phone?”

  “You were trying to kill your father a moment ago.” I stepped toward him. “And now you’re a pair of detectives? You couldn’t have found this camaraderie before destroying my house?”

  Alessandro looked to me, humor briefly visible in his eyes, but vanishing behind his anger. “I thought we agreed no secrets, Miss Sophia.”

  I bit my tongue, stepping closer to him. Oscuro and Beppe did try to give us a semblance of privacy, turning their heads away. While my father-in-law watched us like his favorite program on the television.

  “Aisling asked me to keep it quiet,” I murmured softly to him. “It was not a secret I kept out of malice. It was at the request of Aisling.”

  His eyes scanned my face. “And the doctor and baby brother?”

  I sighed. “That was is a bit harder to explain.” I looked to Toto. “He deserves to know first.”

  Alessandro set his jaw, his muscles twitching. “He killed my mother. Why are you so sure he deserves to know about Aisling’s baby?”

  “I think it was the Corsican Union.” I told him all the facts we had at our disposal, everything I had heard from Don Piero to Dita to Eloise. “Plus, the fact her body was found on Pelletier land. Does that not strike you as odd? Why would your father dump her there?”

  He looked to his father and said loudly, “You didn’t kill her. Why imply you did?”

  Toto shrugged. “I thought it was funny.”

  “Motherfucker, you thought—” Alessandro began to charge forward, but I grabbed his arm.

  “You get to see his face when Aisling tells him the news,” I reminded him. “Let that be payback enough for him being a lunatic.”

  My husband relaxed, grinning ferally. “You’re right.” He straightened, seeming to get a hold of himself once again. “Where is she now?”

  “I assume she is at the doctor’s, as Nora said. But we will wait for her call.” I squeezed his arm, comfortingly. “Come on. I’ll clean you up.”

  “What about my father?”

  “He can get his own wife.”

  Alessandro huffed, letting me lead him away from the men, and the violence, and the pain that all the Rocchetti men held inside themselves until it was time to explode.

  It quickly became clear my medical expertise would not be enough.

  Dr Li Fonti, the Outfit’s concierge doctor, was called to the house to look at both Alessandro and Salvatore Sr. Both of them had gone at each other very hard, leaving Toto with two broken ribs and my husband with a severely bruised knee and broken nose.

  Neither man wanted to sit down and be treated, so I had to hover over them like I was their mother, snapping whenever they fidgeted with their bandages.

  Since both had put their foot down at the mention of the hospital, Dr Li Fonti had been forced to load them both up with opioids and tell them to go easy on their bodies for the next few weeks. From the way the doctor had sighed, he knew he was going to get another call before the week was even up, saying one of them had injured themselves again.

  I thanked him as he left, waving him down the street. Aisling’s car passed his, and she pulled into my driveway, red hair matching her furious expression.

  “I trusted you!” She slammed the car door.

  “Listen to what happened before you make assumptions,” I said from the patio.

  Because Aisling had some common sense, unlike the two battered men sitting in my living room, she paused and looked to me for answers.

  “Alessandro and Toto were trying to kill each other. I managed to calm Alessandro down, but Toto was not calming down. So, I told Oscuro to call you...but Nora picked up.”

  Aisling’s features softened ever so slightly. “That’s not as bad as I thought it was.”

  “And told everyone that you were with the doctor and her baby brother.”

  Anger took a hold of her features once again. “Shit, Sophia! This is bad news.”

  I rose my eyebrows at her tone but didn’t say anything. I did feel guilty for letting her tightly guarded secret become public knowledge.

  She rubbed her face, looking more stressed than I had ever seen her. “Damn it! Where is he?”

  “On the couch.”

  Aisling strode past, walking through the snow into my house.

  I kept up with her, mainly because I wanted to see what happened between her and Toto. Both out of worry and curiosity—worry, because who knew how Toto was going to react, and curiosity, because who knew how Toto was going to react.

  Toto looked up as she entered. “Do you have something you want to tell me?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” She crossed her arms, glancing at Alessandro, who sat on the other end of the couch.

  My husband and I weren’t going anywhere so I signaled for her to go on.

  “What did you do to yourself?” Aisling asked, noticing Salvatore Sr’s bandage around his ribs. “Were you being stupid?”

  His nostrils flared. “Don’t try and distract me, Aisling.” I had never heard Toto take on such a tone. He sounded almost...normal. Angry and pissed off, but normal. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

  She worked her jaw, but answered, “I am.”

  “How far along?”

  “Just under 20 weeks.”

  I did the math in my mind. That meant she had fallen pregnant in September, just a month after she became his mistress.

  Toto rubbed his mouth—just like Alessandro did—and nodded sharply. He rose, holding his side. “Whatever you and the baby need, say so.”

  Aisling looked rightfully suspicious.

  He went on, “As well as the, uh, bigger one.”

  “The bigger one?” I said before I could stop myself.

  My father-in-law actually looked a tiny bit embarrassed. Or maybe I was imagining it. My brain tricking me felt more believable than Toto the Terrible actually showing an emotion such as embarrassment.

  “Your girl, your daughter. I’ll pay for everything. You and your children won’t have to want for anything,” he said.

  I looked at Alessandro. My husband’s eyes were wide and lips parted. Obviously, he had not expected his father to offer to fund Aisling’s life.

  “You can move back to Ireland, if you want,” Toto added when nobody spoke. “I know you want to go home. Don’t worry about the cost.”

  Aisling blinked a few times. “I’m staying in the States. My daughter’s school is here.” She searched his expression for something, but, from the disappointed look in her eyes, she didn’t find it. “I’ll see you at our normal time.”

  “No,” Toto said. “Our arrangement is over.”

  Hurt—real hurt—flashed over Aisling’s face, but she held her shoulders up, kept her eyes dry. “Very well,” she said tightly, “if that is what you want.”

 
“It will have no bearing on the Outfit’s relationship with the McDermotts.”

  Because that is what she is so upset about, I wanted to snap. Even Alessandro looked at his father like he was an idiot.

  Aisling bowed her head. To me, she said, “Thank you, Sophia. I will be going now.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  As she went to leave, she turned her head slightly, “It’s a boy, by the way, Salvatore.”

  Toto didn’t reply.

  Outside, in the falling snow, I wrapped my arms tightly around her. Aisling held me back just as tight, head buried in my neck.

  Neither of us spoke for a moment, until she murmured, “Thank you for always being kind to me, Sophia. All those women I have met over the years, wives and mistresses, sisters and daughters, you were the only one who ever invited me to a baby shower.”

  “If you need or want anything, you just let me know.”

  Aisling pulled away, expression morose. “I am afraid the only thing I want is unattainable.”

  I watched as she drove away, letting the snowflakes slowly freeze me to the bone.

  When I returned to the living room, neither Rocchetti man was speaking to the other. In fact, both of them were making a point of ignoring the other.

  I went to Alessandro, resting my hands on his shoulders and leaning down to his ear, “Did something happen while I was gone?”

  “My father’s an idiot. I merely told him so.”

  I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I agree.”

  Alessandro kissed me back, lips tasting of blood. “Sorry for the mess we made,” he said. “I’ll buy you eleven coatracks to make up for it.”

  “I’m only willing to forgive for twelve coatracks.”

  “A steep price but very well.”

  I smiled against his lips.

  Sudden movement from Toto across the room made my husband tense and turn toward him. He held an arm out in front of me, like Toto was going to lunge across the room to get to me. I rubbed his shoulders.

  I watched as my father-in-law rose to his full height, swaying slightly, hand pressed to his ribs.

  “I am prepared to support you as don, my boy.”

  The words skidded through the room, causing both Alessandro and I to pause. Was he serious? Or was he trying to lull us into a sense of security?

  Alessandro took my hand that was on his shoulder, holding it. “Is that so?”

  Toto turned to us, eyes going straight to our interconnected hands. He didn’t sneer or mock Alessandro, just nodded like he could now see something he couldn’t before. “On one condition.”

  Here it was. The condition. I could only imagine what Toto the Terrible had formed in his twisted brain, what he deemed important enough to give up power for.

  Alessandro squeezed my hand, ready to bargain with his father for our future. Our son’s future. And his son’s future.

  “Yes?”

  Toto casted his eyes up to the ceiling. “Aisling’s children are recognized publicly and legally as Rocchettis.”

  What?

  He looked back to us. “That is the only way I will support you, Alessandro. If the boy and the girl are recognized as Rocchettis. Not like Beppe, but like you or I.”

  “Legitimate,” I murmured, swooning at Toto’s strange words. In his own way, perhaps Toto did care for Aisling. “They would be part of the will, able to inherit property.”

  Toto nodded.

  Alessandro didn’t agree right away. “The girl does not have any Rocchetti blood. The boy I will recognize, but the girl is not one of us.”

  “Those are my conditions, Alessandro,” Toto said, spreading his arms. “Take them or leave them. I will not negotiate.”

  My husband looked to me.

  I said quietly, “Your father’s support will be invaluable in gaining favor with the Outfit, my love. All you have to do is accept some more family members. It is a no brainer.”

  Alessandro nodded and said to his father, “Very well. Both Aisling’s children will be acknowledged as legitimate Rocchettis. They will, both legally and publicly, be part of this family.”

  Toto bowed his head, hand pressed to his heart, “My Don, my Donna.”

  The sudden title made me start but not enough to distract me from asking, “Why, Salvatore?”

  “Why what, Sophia?” he repeated like he was stupid.

  “Why ask us for this? We would have given you anything and everything if that is what you had wanted.”

  Alessandro shot me a look that said, Don’t give him any ideas.

  My father-in-law shrugged. “I already have everything. I can get anything. I want for nothing, except this one thing. That is why.”

  Aisling’s words fluttered through my brain. I am afraid the only thing I want is unattainable.

  Sadness washed over me, but I accepted his answer.

  Two down, one to go.

  Later that night, I sat on the edge of the bathtub, speaking softly on the phone to Elena. Alessandro and Dante were both asleep in the other room, so I kept my voice quiet. Curled up by my feet was Polpetto. He had followed me into the bathroom but gotten bored quickly and fallen asleep.

  “It’s not so bad, being married,” Elena was saying. “He mostly does his own thing. Except for sex.”

  I picked at my dressing gown. “How is the sex?”

  “I mean, it’s fine. It hurts, but it doesn’t last very long. I’m usually thinking about other things,” she snickered.

  I felt my own lips turn up in response. “Yeah? Like what?”

  “What I want for breakfast, books I want to read. Normal stuff,” was her reply.

  “Even your sex thoughts are boring,” I teased, and she laughed on the other end of the phone. “How’s being away from Chicago?”

  Even if Thaddeo was a nightmare, Elena would still prefer New York over Chicago. From the silence on the other end of the phone, it was obvious she was trying to figure out a nice way of telling me she preferred it better there than here.

  “Are you happy?” I asked when she didn’t reply.

  Elena made a soft noise. “I am, Sophia. Trust me, I’m fine. It’s not as bad or as good as I thought it would be. It’s...mediocre.”

  “I’m sure Thaddeo would be overjoyed with the compliment.”

  “He doesn’t really pay much attention to me,” she said, sounding happy about it. “Oh! Sophia, you should see the library.”

  “I have only ever stepped into a library once, Elena. When I was like fourteen and—”

  “Adam Myles was chasing you with that moldy bread!” Elena laughed as she cut me off, remembering the story just as well as I.

  “I can’t believe you’re laughing,” I said, smiling. “That little turd hunted me through the school.”

  She didn’t stop laughing, instead it grew more intense as she remembered the story.

  I shook my head but couldn’t stop my happiness at hearing her laugh. I had been so worried about her in New York, all alone. But Elena was fine—in fact, she sounded better than me.

  When she calmed down, she asked, “How is Beatrice?”

  “Good. She’s due in a month, so she hasn’t been leaving the house a lot,” I said. “I’m betting it’s a girl. What do you think?”

  “I’ll go boy, for poor Pietro. Imagine living with two Beatrices? He will starve.”

  I laughed. “Don’t be so mean. Baking is difficult.”

  “Is it though? I’m sad I missed the baby shower. We used to talk about them in home room, do you remember?”

  I did. When we were younger and still thought everything adults told us was the law. My life had been set out in front of me: graduate, get married, have a baby, have another baby, die. I was still following that plan, but with my own minor adjustments.

  I wondered what teenage Sophia would think of me. She would be confused about where her sister was, was the first thought that hit me, and it was the truth. Teenage Sophia didn’t do anything without her big sister.
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br />   I closed my eyes.

  “You still there, Sophia?” Elena asked.

  “I’m here. Just lost in memories.”

  “Nostalgia can be dangerous like that,” she said reasonably. When she took on that matter-of-fact tone, anything could come out of her mouth and sound believable. “How are you doing now, with motherhood and everything else?”

  “It’s getting a little easier now Dante’s getting a bit older. He doesn’t need to feed as much and has a better sleep schedule, but it’s still...it’s still hard.”

  Elena made a sympathetic noise. “Hopefully, Thaddeo won’t want kids for a few more years.”

  “Oh, they’re not so bad,” I said. “He’s actually kind of cute.”

  “That’s his Padovino blood,” she said. “Wait until he starts to grow into his Rocchetti-ness.”

  “Rocchetti-ness? Don’t tell me you’re making up words now, Elena, I’ll begin to assume you’re being drugged.”

  She huffed. Elena never appreciated 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.”