“She’s got one daddy,” Big Joe spat out. “And he’s got a fucking bead on you.”
Rev laughed, tipped his head from side to side and cracked his neck, a habit that was really starting to annoy Mia. “You got nothing on me. And what the fuck would you do if you did? Write me a parking ticket?”
“Why do you think he’s a cop?” Although Mia hated Rev, and had no desire to enter into any form of conversation with him, she had to ask the question. If Big Joe wasn’t who Nico thought he was, or if he was some kind of undercover cop, she needed to know, not just for Nico’s sake, but also for her own. Knowledge was power, and that kind of information could buy her some very important favors.
Rev shrugged. “Because he is.”
Big Joe drew in a ragged breath and his eyes hardened, his entire body so tense Mia thought he might explode. She’d never seen this side of the usual affable and easy-going Big Joe. But then she was beginning to wonder if she knew him at all.
“Ma’am.” Gritting his teeth, he turned and walked down the hall.
Mia glanced over at Rev, his eyes distant in contemplation. “I just need to tell him something about the course. I’ll be right back.” She pushed past him, but before she reached the door, he snatched her purse from her hand.
“A little insurance policy.” He held the purse out of reach. “Not that I need it. I’ve got guys stationed at every exit. No way am I going back to Don Cordano empty-handed.”
With a huff of annoyance, Mia ran down the hall after Big Joe.
“Wait.” She caught up to him at the reception desk. “Why does he think you’re cop?’
Big Joe turned, quickly blanking his face. “I didn’t want my ex to know what I really did for a living.” He shrugged. “She’s not a discrete person, if you know what I mean. And I didn’t want this life to touch my little girl. So yeah, I made up a story about being a traffic cop. It was a good way to explain the odd hours and why I couldn’t always be around. Then my ex took up with that loser, and I didn’t see any point in changing the story. I figured, the less they knew about me, the better. Looks like that was a good choice ’cause I didn’t know he was a made guy or part of your father’s crew.”
Mia’s tension eased. “I was worried for a second there. I thought maybe you were an undercover cop and you were going to take Nico and his crew down.”
“No, ma’am. Nico and the crew don’t have anything to fear from me.”
Maybe not. But she hadn’t suffered through years of abuse without developing the ability to read the smallest nuances of expression as a matter of survival. Big Joe said all the right words, but the throb of the pulse in his neck, and the cold stare from a man she knew as a nice guy mobster told another story, one that she would unravel as soon as she got a chance.
*
“Nico, can you and your boys eat?” Nonna Maria greeted Nico, Luca, and Frankie at the door of her modest home. As always, her gray hair was tied back in a bun, and she wore her worn, red apron tightly wrapped around her doughy middle.
“Always. But I didn’t ask to use your house for the meeting so you could feed us.” Nico kissed his grandmother on both cheeks and followed her into the kitchen, every surface covered with pots, food, dishes, and utensils, the air thickly scented with tomato sauce and parmesan.
“It’s just a little something.” His nonna shook her head. “You’re too thin. Look at your uncle Santo before he passed. He ate well.”
Santo ate too well, and had to rely on Tony to handle discipline and enforcement. By contrast, Nico stayed in shape and could hold his own in any fight. His father had taught him that a leader who could physically dominate was more effective than a leader who had to rely on others to enforce his will.
After the obligatory testing of the dishes his nonna had prepared, he headed into the oak-paneled dining room where the men of the family were waiting. Decorated with faded seventies wallpaper, and stuffed with ornate wooden furniture shipped from Italy by his now-deceased grandfather over fifty years ago, the dining room was the heart of his nonna’s home and the place where all family business was conducted.
Nico had waited two weeks before requesting a meeting with Tony to discuss the family succession out of respect for Santo’s death and Tony’s injuries. His developing relationship with Mia was making him rethink his commitment to the Scozzari marriage, and he needed certainty in at least one area of his life.