Page 120 of Cartel Devil

My tía and sister explained they’d done as much research as they could in prenatal thallium exposure. Understandably, there wasn’t a ton of data. But the studies conducted show the earlier in the pregnancy the exposure happens, the less likely it is for adverse effects. Once they explained the metrics, the tables and graphs made sense to me. Turns out Tre’s taken almost as many stats classes as I have. She had no trouble interpreting them too.

Tía and Madeline couldn’t promise there were no possibilities that something had already gone wrong, and they explained Tre’s considered high risk, but they definitely allayed many of our fears. It was the best news we’d had since we arrived at the hospital.

“Tre, I need to step into Tío’s office to make a call. Do you need anything?”

My girlfriend’s surrounded by all the women in our family—los Diaz. She’s one of us now. Kathleen and Frank headed back to Boston an hour ago. Everyone knew it was time, but no one blamed them for not wanting to leave. It’s why everyone came over. The women wanted to comfort Tre, and the men knew it was time to have conversations we’d never risk having with Frank and the Vizzini men around.

“I’m all right.”

It’s not like one of the women wouldn’t get whatever she needs, but I offer anyway. The look she shoots me tells me there’s one thing she needs that only I can give her. When her gaze darts down to my dick, I give her a kiss and hurry away before anyone sees the hard-on I’ll get if I stick around.

When I enter my tío’s study, my brothers and cousins are already waiting for me. Tío Luis is on a brief trip to Bogotá to remind a guy that his arms aren’t as long as he thinks they are, so his reach is nothing compared to my family’s. Tío Matías is charming board members of a corporation based near Atlantic City. I’m sure he wishes he were with us.

Before I can pull out my phone to call Salvatore, it vibrates in my pocket. When I catch sight of the caller ID, I turn it toward the others and grin.

“Hola, cabrón.”

“Caio, stronzo.”

“Never a pleasure, Salvatore. What do you want?”

“I’m calling to see how Tricia is doing.”

“You couldn’t ask Serafina?”

“I’m asking you.”

“You haven’t actually asked anything yet.”

“Porco cane.” Pig dog.

The insult loses something in translation.

“Sylvia told you to call, didn’t she? Still got your huevos in a vice.”

He says nothing, so he neither agrees nor disagrees—aloud. We all know that’s exactly what happened.

“Salvatore, you grow older by the minute. You didn’t just call to see how my girlfriend is. If it was just about that, Sylvia would’ve called. What’re you going to tell us?”

He barks a laugh. “Enrique, I would’ve thought you’d finished drilling manners into the pup by now. He never learns, does he?”

“At least he doesn’t need a vacation under the Tuscan sun to learn.”

Tío’s never interested in playing tit-for-tat, but he always has a comeback. Luca, Carmine, and Gabriele took it upon themselves a few years ago to plan, then utterly fail at a mission that resulted in a bratva wife getting injured. Salvatore couldn’t look soft in front of his men, so he had no choice but to mete out punishment to his nephews and his Sicilian best friend’s son. Then he sent them to work on a Sicilian vineyard for a man who owed Salvatore several favors. He made sure Luca, Carmine, and Gabriele understood how little he wanted the Mancinelli fuck-ups.

“Francesco’s not a well-liked man these days.”

“You don’t say. He threatened to sell my girlfriend and hurt my cousin’s wife. If he did that to a Boston Cosa Nostra daughter and a Mala del Brenta daughter, then no woman is safe from his threats.”

“I know. We know he thinks I’m getting too close to Tommaso. He fears I’ll side with the Vizzinis in the future, that I don’t value our ties to Sicily enough.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous. Your marriage tied your family to Sicily. That was the entire point. You won the jackpot and married a woman far better than you. That’s what Carmine and Serafina’s betrothal was supposed to do when they were teens. Your nephew doesn’t deserve the luck he had to get a woman like Sera to voluntarily marry, let alone love him. Your ties to the motherland are just fine.”

“You know that. I know that. We know that. Everybody fucking knows that.”

“Except for that fucker.”

“Exactly. Sylvia’s never liked him, but after the last trip to Palermo, she doesn’t trust him anymore. Allegra doesn’t either.”