My Tragic Mafia Life | ✔️

47

Josephine sighed, staring at the tiled ceiling. "Listen, Beatriz, I don't really care what's going on with your family. I mean, drama is drama, and it's my favorite thing to watch on television, but your sad lives aren't really worth my pity." Beatriz's expression was still stony. "But what I do care about is the fact that Camillo's waiting for an answer. So, if you lie, I got nothing. I suggest you take a seat and calm down."

She did. Beatriz drew the chair across the ground with an ear-splitting roar while Josephine did her best imitation of a pleasant smile, while the seat in front of her was filled. With a grumpy face, but filled.

Josephine went on, not sure if Beatriz wasn't wholly convinced yet. Especially with how she yanked the chair. "Possibility of Camillo just ignoring the entire shebang is really, really slim. I mean, you gotta hand it to Raquel. If brothels weren't her thing, she'd be a good salesperson. Her pitch? Marvelous. I almost joined then and there. Plus—"

"I'll tell you." Beatriz snapped. Whatever she was about to confess would be good. Very good.

Josephine knitted her fingers together, rosy nails sparkling underneath the lights overhead. "I'm all ears, betty-boo. Spill."

Beatriz glowered even more. "Don't call me betty-boo."

"It's cute." She tucked a strand of her golden hair beneath her ear. "Don't reject my affection. Now go on."

Beatriz swallowed, and her hand found themselves tiptoeing around her arms, until they were crossed firmly across her chest. This would be hard, Josephine realized. To admit this. But admit what? A thing that was so important Dante didn't need to know. Or any man, for that case.

She was hesitant. "How much do you know about..." She didn't need to finish the thought. They both already knew.

"I know about Sergio and Cordelia." It was an easy lie. An easy beginning to open her secret. Josephine waited for a reply.

At the sound of their names, Beatriz went ramrock straight. "They're my parents," She said, voice ragged. After Camillo's hint of their melodramatic history, there was a chance to clear up their unknown family tree.

Josephine kept her face neutral. "Which one is Dante's parent?"

"Cordelia." Beatriz said.

"And Houston's?"

"Sergio."

Now Josephine was even more confused. Their family dinners must have been more fun than her own.

"The Valencios," Beatriz started, then paused. She was debating whether or not to say. Josephine's impatience swelled, willing for her to go on. At last, Beatriz gave in. "Are led by Cordelia Valencio. My mother."

A woman? "I thought your last name was Costala."

"It was my mother's before she married Sergio for a political alliance and became a Valencio." Beatriz said, face pale despite her brown skin. Her fingers flexed, uncomfortable with the words. With the truth being spoken out loud.

Josephine tapped her pink lips. "Raquel mentioned serving the true child. Sergio's child." Beatriz's Father. A part of it made sense. "That Cordelia's gone crazy." The head of the Valencios. Her mother. But where did Dante come in? Where was Hugo in this mess? "That's you. His true child. What the hell does that even mean?"

Beatriz laid her hands on her knees, palms up. "Cordelia hasn't been doing the best with running the Valencios. After Hugo died she'd been on a rampage."

So Dante and his brother came from the same mother. Still, since when had she ever heard of a woman in charge of a mafia? "Aren't you hispanics all about macho culture? As toxic as it is, I thought the mafias would be like that. You know, tradition and stuff?"