Turning Point||Book 2

32: Romano.

"How did yesterday go?" I inquired of Ottavio as he answered my call.

"Things were awkward at first," he responded, "but I did get a decent turnout."

I didn't want awkwardness. I craved normalcy. It had been four months since RoyalGrey shut down, and I had half expected the entire place to buzz with excitement upon its reopening yesterday. But I had Ivan River to blame for that. If he had just decided to take down my father and the late Consigliere without the rest of us, we wouldn't be facing such backlash.

However, with us managing the authorities and them already disseminating fabricated stories in favor of the TIF, we should be back to normal in a few more months, if not weeks.

"Your mother is tearing the whole place down," Ottavio revealed with a laugh. Bastard. "God, the way she's been idolizing Pietro, you'd think he were some kind of Jesus."

Typical of the woman. Whenever he beat her, she'd patch it up with makeup and claim it was her carelessness that resulted in the injury. But as someone who knew my father well and was adept at sneaking around, I had witnessed the majority of their fights and seen him throw vases, belts, even a gun at her. But of course, he'd be Jesus to her; he had saved her from poverty.

I didn't want to hear anything about my mother other than that she was physically fine. Delving into the details of her brainwashing might make me vomit my imaginary breakfast. And since Ottavio was laughing at the mention of her, it meant she wasn't in any immediate danger.

Moving to pick up a brush to comb out my unruly hair, I asked, "What about Bianca, her husband, and the kids?"

Ottavio's tone brightened slightly. "Oh, Baby Mia took her first independent walk two days ago. Bianca's spreading the news restlessly." That was good news, but it triggered an anxious feeling in me as I remembered that I had a baby on the way— one I hadn't even told them about yet. "Aldo, of course, is learning well. We're starting boxing classes this weekend, and he's excited." At eleven, it was certainly time to start teaching him self-defense. "And Claudio..." He hesitated. "He's not been drinking that often, and I can't get enough of his chatter about the upcoming inauguration."

I hoped it would hold. Because if I failed, I and my whole crew were doomed.

"Though I've been taking him to the club to explain how things run," Ottavio continued, but he momentarily addressed someone with him before carrying on. "I've been teaching him to handle a gun, hitting the gym, and, if Bianca would allow, going to the bordello."

"She'll cut off your toes, one by one!" I laughed out, knowing Bianca was protective and often jealous of the imbecile. He chuckled too, and eventually mentioned that Bianca had been investing more time with our mother and Gia, while he and Emilia were doing fine.

I wasn't being missed. Ottavio was handling things in Bologna well, just covering up for me. I kept biting my lip, battling with my thoughts. Just as I wanted to open up about Kate, his voice came through again.

"Amato's brothers were here yesterday along with your other uncles," he said. My head throbbed as I thought about them coming to inform Morelli about the book if they already knew. "It's in preparation for the funeral. They want to find a way to coordinate your father's burial with your inauguration to save costs and time. Morelli asked them to handle it since you're not keen about it."

Nothing had changed, not even after five months. Morelli wanted no involvement in anything concerning my father, and I knew he wouldn't attend the funeral, just as he hadn't graced the consigliere's. He'd said so himself. But as for the others, they probably didn't care about the betrayal but rather about keeping up appearances.