Mob Bride (The O’Rourke Brotherhood #5)

Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Shane

I’ll kill the motherfucker who ordered this. The fucker who ruined my wife’s wedding day. This was already less than ideal, and now she’ll forever remember this day as the first time she realized what it means to be in a mob family.

“ Ar dheis .” To the right.

Seamus spots them first and pivots, shooting as he drops to his left knee beside a car. The rest of us fan out and do the same. We regroup.

“ Chonaic mé beirt ag rith go dtí an taobh thuaidh .” I saw two running to the northside.

Cormac and Seamus break off and head where Cormac saw guys I didn’t. I turn to my older brother. He’s been quieter than usual.

“Finn? Finn! Feck!”

“What?”

Sean and Dillan call out together.

“It’s just a nick. I’m fine.”

“The feck it is. Let me see.”

I dash to Finn’s side. I spotted the blood on his shirt when his suit coat shifted as he moved to peek around a car hood.

“Stop looking at how pretty I am, little brother. Your wife’ll kill me if you die because you’re chasing after your big brother. Again .”

“Arse. Let me see.” I push his hand away as I pull his shirt up.

“Is it bad?”

Sean shoots as he asks. He can’t look over at us, but he’s backing toward us.

“No. He told the truth for once. It’s just a nick.”

He played his last senior football game with a cracked clavicle he got the day before during a fight with Luca Mancinelli over Luca calling Sean and me pussies. He gave Luca a concussion that kept him out of the game, but he didn’t tell anyone about his collarbone because he didn’t want to be benched. No one knew until Mom spotted him taking off his padding and noticed the bruising and swelling.

Lord, I’m glad I wasn’t him. I’ve seen Mom pissed as a kicked cobra, but that was whole other level that day. She grounded him from his car for a month, took away his phone for the three days Meredith insisted he stay in bed, and she made him clean up dog shite in the yard for the rest of the school year. But when she wasn’t chewing him a new one, she was telling him stories and jokes no mom should know and singing the same lullabies she did when we were little. Anytime the pain meds wore off, she sang to him until they kicked back in.

“Stop fussing and pay attention. I’m more scared of your wife than you. You’d shoot at me to make a point. She’d just shoot me. She wouldn’t miss.”

I grin.

“ Próistí !” Cops!

Dillan calls out as Cormac and Seamus race toward us. We book it back to the SUV left for us. I dive into the driver’s seat, and Sean gets in beside me. It’s a tight fit, but Cormac, Seamus, and Dillan wedge themselves into the second row until I’m peeling out of the parking lot. Finn got in through the rear door and is checking the rifles we always keep in the SUVs. Dillan goes over the back of the seat into the third row once I’m on the road. Finn joins him and hands rifles to everyone but me. Seamus props mine between the side of my seat and the center console. I have my handgun resting on my thigh as I hold it with my right hand and steer with my left.

“What the feck just happened?” I ask what we’re all thinking.

“I don’t know. There were too many to have followed us with no one noticing. Someone tipped them off.” Sean twists in his seat to look back at the others.

“But who? None of our drivers knew where to go until they were on the road. I texted Mom once Carys showed me your reply. I knew this was the closest place in Connecticut.” The vein in Seamus’s left temple throbs as he speaks.

He’s thinking what we all are. We’re all livid someone endangered our wives. We’re worried about our parents, but it’s obvious they know what they’re doing. This isn’t their first rodeo. And it’s not like the women my generation’s married are shrinking violets, but none of them have lived through this. Not even the ones who come from mob families. Not even Carrie after what happened at the lumberyard. I understand now how Dillan, Finn, Sean, and Seamus felt when their wives were in danger while they dated.

I think how I feel now is another reason I didn’t admit my feelings to myself. The rage coursing through me that someone attacked the woman I love threatens to consume me. It threatens to make me do something irrational and emotional. If I’d admitted how hard I fell for Carrie when it was happening, I would have done something rash, like bursting into Bartlomiej’s house and killing him just for breathing in the same hemisphere as her. It would have likely gotten Carrie killed. Fuck. I nearly did that day on the trail.

“ Suas ann. Ar chlé. ” Up there. To the left.

Sean points to an SUV that’s swerving. It could be someone on their phone. Or it could be someone we shot. We switched to Irish because we never want anyone to know our signals. But we also do it because it comes as naturally as English. We frequently switch back and forth during conversations. Hell, half of us could speak Irish and the other half English during the same conversation. It happens.

I glance in the rearview mirror. No one’s behind me, and the radar detector—illegal, but who gives a shite—hasn’t alerted us to any speed traps. I speed up until I pull even with the car.

“Is that?—”

“Motherfucker.”

I don’t let Sean finish before I cut in with my expletive and a stream of them in my head.

“Who is that?” Finn wouldn’t know, but it’ll piss him off when he finds out.

“Someone I’ll kill with my bare hands for betraying Carrie.”

This goes beyond what happened earlier today. This just got personal in a way this piece of shite can’t possibly understand until I put a bullet between their eyes. All bets are off.

“Brace.”

I glance in the rearview mirror again, then over at Sean to make sure they’re all holding on with seatbelts fastened. I plow our SUV into the one carrying my target. It’s sturdy, but it isn’t the tank we make ours. Its reinforced frame won’t stand up to ours. We have tires that roll even when punctured. We have plating on the chassis to protect us from IEDs. The windows and doors are bulletproof. There are small windows slots in the trunk that someone might think are for extra ventilation. They’re so we can slide gun muzzles through them. The entire thing is a giant roll cage. We’ve all been in rollovers, and we’ve all gotten out dazed but in one piece.

All Four Families go to the same custom shop for our vehicles. It’s Switzerland. The owner tries to time it, so we never run into each other. But if we do, it’s neutral ground. We’re on our best manners because no family can afford to be banned. It would be a death sentence. We couldn’t defend ourselves from the very thing I’m doing right now. The only way to tell the different families’ vehicles apart are the hubcaps which are unique like a family crest. It’s handy when meetings don’t work out.

I swerve harder to the left and push the SUV toward the shoulder. There’s a steep drop on the other side of the guardrail. If they don’t backdown and stop, I’ll push them over the edge. I guarantee they won’t survive the fall. If they aren’t thrown from the vehicle, or impaled by something, the inevitable firebomb will kill them. That would not be a satisfying conclusion, but it would be unalterable.

“Get the quarter panel again. It’s about to puncture the tire.” Sean points to what I just spotted.

The sound of metal crunching metal makes the hair on my arm stand up. Dillan winds down his window and points his rifle at the people in the backseat. I can’t see what’s happening because I have to watch where we’re going, or it’ll be us flying over the rail.

“Ease off. I’m taking the rear tire.”

I listen to Dillan and pull away enough to avoid the car when it spins out. It stops with the rear bumper against the guardrail, and the hood pointing toward the road. I box it in. They can try to push our SUV, but they’re more likely to push themselves backwards over the edge. I made sure I have room to open my door, with the front tire even with their bumper. We flood out of the sides and back. Rifles pointing at the vehicle. I go to the front passenger side and pull the handle. I knew it’d be locked, but on the off chance…

I spin my rifle I grabbed on my way out of our vehicle and ram the stock into the window. Seamus comes to help me. The tempered glass holds for a while, but not forever. The moment we hear it start to give, I turn my rifle around, and Seamus steps out of the way. I shift my weight back and point the weapon at the dashboard. I fire, and the window shatters. I pivot and put the barrel to my new nemesis’s forehead.

“Get the fuck out of the car on your own, or I’ll drag you by your motherfucking hair.” I think my parents’ll forgive my language this time.

“Do you realize what you’re doing?”

That gets a laugh from all of us.

“I’d listen to my brother. He’s not known to be as patient as I am.”

Sean’s standing next to me now, his rifle pointed at the driver. None of them have reached for a weapon. They’re going to die, but at least they aren’t rushing us.

“Open the door and get out on your own, Angela.”

She doesn’t comply. Go figure. With my gun still to her forehead, I reach in and unlock the door. She goes for my hand, thinking she can pull my pinky back and distract me. She’s not as fast as I am. I pull my hand back, adjust my target, and put a bullet through her right hand and into her thigh. She howls.

“Get out on your own, and you won’t look like Swiss cheese. Make me say it again, and I’ll torture you for the pure pleasure of listening to you beg. Then I’ll find your family and do the same thing to them. Do you have kids?”

I’d never go after children. No one in my family would, and they’d never let me. But the fuck she needs to know that.

“Okay. I’ll get out.”

The other guys have already gotten the other passengers out. Angela struggles but gets her belt off. I move out of her way enough for her to get out of the car.

“Kneel.”

As she does, I put the barrel to the back of her head and shove.

“My patience is gone. Too bad for you. Explain.”

She remains silent. I put a bullet through the back of her left calf.

“Normally, I don’t hurt women. Normally, I’d defend a woman. But you—you lost any chance for mercy. Finding you in this car means you wanted Carys dead.”

“I’m good as dead, so what does it matter how I go?”

“You stupid bitch.” I shift to bend over, so my face is in front of hers. “You have no idea the invitation you just gave me. You want to play in the big kids sandbox, now you’re about to find out what it means to pick on a bully who doesn’t back down. Goliath’s going to win this one.”

The rifle muzzle presses against her carotid.

“Finn, what’d they say?” My brother’s Polish isn’t fluent, but it’s pretty fucking close.

“They’re not feeling so chatty.”

“Maybe a little truth serum will do the trick.”

Dillan holds up three bottles of shitty Polish vodka. He must have found them when he popped the trunk. He hands me a bottle after unscrewing the top. He gives one to Finn, and the last one to Cormac.

Finn asks another question, but the guy stays quiet. He turns toward Angela.

“I’ll ask you the same thing. Who owns the contract?”

He means now that Bartlomiej and Jacek are dead, who’s keeping the mercenary contract to kill Carrie active.

Angela doesn’t answer. I’m forcing my temper to remain in check, or I’ll kill her before I find out what I need to know. I nod to Sean, who puts his pistol to her forehead as I grab a handful of hair and yank as hard as I can. It snaps her neck back and her mouth open as she howls in pain. I pour the vodka down her throat, not stopping as she chokes and splutters.

“You came near my wife. Now you pay.”

I pour down her throat until I know she’s on the edge of drowning because I don’t relent long enough for her to breathe. She can’t inhale through her nose while she’s gasping, and every gasp just lets more vodka down her throat. The angle ensures plenty is going down her windpipe. I pause.

“Ready to talk?”

“Fuck—”

“I have a wife for that, remember? You targeted her. You’re going to tell me who sent you. When I run out of vodka, I’ll switch back to bullets. Who?”

“Someone who doesn’t like you.”

“You’re going to have to narrow that down. We’ll be here for days if I have to guess. Who?”

“Someone who thinks you’re bad for business.”

Something’s off. I don’t know what, but intuition’s screaming it.

“Is the person you’re working for the same person who’s keeping the hit on?”

She goes quiet. She just glares at me.

“Two different people. Good to know.”

I watch her as my mind leapfrogs from one thought to another, skipping some and doubling back to others.

“Someone paid you to infiltrate the Poles for their personal gain.”

I see the surprise in her eyes, even though the rest of her expression remains neutral.

“Whoever this is wants something from the Poles, and they wouldn’t mind punishing me or maybe my entire family while they’re at it.”

She controls her reaction this time. I pull her head back farther and pour more liquid down her throat. I let her go and let her cough.

“Let me guess, getting paid by one syndicate was good, but getting paid by two was great. You told Jacek about Carys. You’re why he attacked her the first time. You’re why Bartlomiej signed off on the hit, and Jacek ordered it. Did they know you were selling secrets to someone else?”

I look over her head at the men who were with her. They’re taking punches to the head and torso, but none to the face. Not yet. We want to read their reactions. The guy closest to her doesn’t hide his surprise like she does. He mutters something in Polish.

Finn exhales a derisive huff. “Seems she was fucking Jacek.”

“Really now? Interesting considering what you wanted me to believe this morning. Jacek was a sick and deranged fuck. Was it just for the info or did you enjoy it? Did you get off on the torture? Oh yeah, we all know how he liked to torture the women whether or not they wanted it. He said ‘was fucking’ not fucked—as in ongoing. It wasn’t a one off.”

“Jacek’s dead, so he can’t tell you, and I won’t.”

“Oo. A little too much vitriol there. You had feelings for him. Does whoever sent you in there know you were getting off on company time?”

“It’s not a job when you love the work.” I want to smack that sneer off her face. “They don’t give a fuck.”

“You either blame Carys for Jacek’s death, or you wish she’d died with them. It got personal when that happened. It wasn’t about a job anymore.”

“So smart.”

“I graduated summa cum laude, so yeah, so smart. What made you turn on Carys before the plane crash?”

“You. Jacek told me about the lumberyard. Carys being with you was going to ruin it all. It did. They didn’t get what they wanted, so they blew up Bartlomiej and Jacek.”

“I’ve got the why and part of the who. Now I want to know all of it.”

“Fuck off.” She tries to spit at me, but I pour vodka over her face, making sure to get some in her eyes.

“Shane, look at this.” Sean holds out his phone to me.

Seamus frisked her while I poured the first round. I saw him hand the phone, badge, and wallet to Sean while he emptied her gun’s clip. I don’t know when he got the rubber gloves from the back of the vehicle. He kicked the bullets around and tossed the gun over the rail after he made her hold it one more time. If we need to, we’ll put a bullet through her head and let her drop over the cliff. Anyone finds her, and it’ll look like suicide. I kept her focused on my interrogation, so I doubt she noticed what her hands touched.

Now, I’m looking at an ancestry website. Her driver’s license gave Sean her name and birthdate. From there, he probably got her birth certificate and social security number.

“Which one?” I turn the phone for her to see.

The first real flash of fear registers.

“Not that close to your family after all?”

“Nothing you do can be worse than them.”

“You keep inviting me to make your death more and more painful. They didn’t send you in because they trusted you to do them a solid. Someone in your immediate family owes money to these distant relatives. Didn’t you know lending and borrowing make for bad blood in families?”

“It wasn’t about money.”

I hand the phone back to Sean and put my gun back to the artery in her neck. “Keep sharing, and I’ll be merciful. Force me to wait for my brother to discover this shite, and I’ll make you pay for every minute you waste.

“No need.” Finn puts a bullet through the guy’s head who spilled the beans. “Her brother made a pass at the wrong woman.”

I look at Angela, then back at Finn. “Is he dead already?”

She nods.

“You were restitution.”

She nods again.

“What can you tell me to convince me not to turn you over to them?”

Her eyes widen to the point they might truly fall out. Or it would make it easy for me to pluck them out. It freaks people the fuck out when they see their own eyeball staring back at them.

“Krzysztof.”

“Their uncle? He took over the contract?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t care who caused the plane crash. He wants revenge because Bartlomiej loved Carys, and she betrayed him.”

“You make it sound like you believe she actually did that.”

“She did. She didn’t have to make him fall for her. She didn’t have to make him a little bitch. I told Krzysztof she’s the one who shot Jacek. That sealed her fate.”

“And put you in his good graces. Shite load of good it did you. You know he’d turn on you now that Jacek isn’t there to protect you. If you think I’m a sick fuck, you don’t know the half of it. You know he’s been shot like eight times, right? Shanked at least half a dozen times in prison and knifed who the fuck knows how many times in street fights. The man will live forever. Certainly long enough to torture you, but he won’t let you come like Jacek did. Who do you think taught Jacek?”

“None of that matters now.”

“Mmm. Maybe it does. Maybe I’ll trade you to him for Carys’s life.”

“He won’t stop wanting her dead until she is.”

“Okay. Then maybe I’ll go back to my original suggestion. I wouldn’t mind that family owing me a favor.”

“Go ahead. They won’t hurt me. I’m a woman, and even they have limits.”

“She really believes that, doesn’t she? She’s really convinced herself of that in the last couple minutes, hasn’t she?” Finn walks over to her and peers down. “You’re the stupid bitch my brother called you. You were terrified of them a moment ago.”

Dillan puts a bullet in the guy’s chest he was guarding when Cormac went to get the gloves. He wanders over like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“She was just smart enough to get herself fucked, but not the kind she liked from Jacek. Sweetheart, the moment you got involved with a hit on a syndicate woman, you marked yourself the same as a mercenary. There’s no immunity for that. It doesn’t matter if the woman you went after is one of ours, not one of theirs.” Dillan’s patronizing tone pisses her off—which he can tell—so he laughs at her.

Seamus must be bored because he joins the conversation, too. “I’m hangry. I skipped breakfast because you forced me out of bed to deal with this shite when my bride was telling me the most fascinating story. She’s a very vivid storyteller. I haven’t had lunch because of the shite you caused. You’re about to find out what happens to a guy who usually eats forty-five-hundred calories a day misses two meals.” He juts his chin toward Cormac. “My brother doesn’t have a wife, but you disturbed his morning plans, too. He missed both meals just like me. He eats even more than I do. I’d get on with it, if I were you.”

“Tell you what. Tell me which woman, and I’ll end it all now.” I shrug and hold out my hand with the bottle still in it as if to say, “so what’ll it be?”

“Maria.”

It takes a moment, then we’re all laughing so hard, we sound like a pack of hyenas. I struggle to speak.

“Your brother was one dumb motherfucker. The most untouchable woman in all of New York. That’s who he even looked at.”

Maria Mancinelli is no princess. But she’s a Mafia daughter, niece, sister, and wife. Maria’s uncle is the don. Her father’s their consigliere . Her oldest brother is the underboss. Her second oldest brother is the capo dei capi —basically the highest ranking general and third in line to inherit. Her husband’s that brother’s best friend and one of the senior most capos . His father is her father’s best friend, and the guy’s mother is her mother’s best friend.

But it’s more than that. Maria is like Colleen was. A woman with a kind heart and a wicked sense of humor and likely the least jaded person in her family despite being right smack in the middle of it. She loathes any syndicate man who isn’t her family, but she’d give us the coat off her back if we deserved help. She’s so untouchable, insulting her caused that melee that nearly got all of us killed in high school. When men kidnapped her, all the families worked to get her back before they could sex traffic her.

“I hope his death was ex—cru—tiat—ing—ly slow.” I draw out each syllable.

“It was. I warned him.”

“Seems nobody warned you.”

I pull out my phone and unlock it.

“What the fuck do you want, you piece of shit?”

“ Ciao , cazzo d’Orro. ” It basically translates to Golden Prick or a guy a rich woman marries because she wants that dick.

“Shane, I’m busy. What the fuck do you want?”

“It’s not what I want, Matteo. It’s who I have who you might want.”

“It’s your wedding day, and you’d rather be on the phone telling me stupid riddles.”

It doesn’t shock me the other families know. It’s the lesser syndicates knowing, like the Poles that isn’t a joyous surprise.

“Remember Gianni Campenelli?”

“What about him?” Matteo’s ready to hedge his bets.

“His sister just tried to kill my wife. She’s still breathing. For now. I know you haven’t given Maria that yacht you just bought for her birthday. Give it to my wife as a wedding present, and you can have Angela.”

“You’re trading her for a boat?”

“Save your indignation for the devil. It’s a yacht.”

A super yacht worth several million. It happens to be the one I was eyeing, and the twat knew it.

“I’m not giving you Maria’s present.”

“Fine. I’ll kill Angela and dump her somewhere inconvenient for you.”

“You’re the meticulous one. You leave nothing that could be a loose end, like a body.”

“Call it a gift that got lost in transit. I’ll make it work.”

“And what am I supposed to do with her? If she was stupid enough to get caught, then why would I want her?”

“Trade her to Krzysztof for whatever pissed you off enough to kill Bartlomiej and Jacek.”

He doesn’t answer.

“You have a lot to make up to me, Matteo. I’m giving you a chance to just owe me a favor. You had Angela target my woman to fuck up her investigation, so you could get to the Nowakowskis. She put Carys in Jacek’s crosshairs, so she’d be out of the way of whatever you wanted, and I know you fucking know it. That’s the same as you putting a hit on my wife.”

“Not so great being on the receiving end, is it?”

“You motherfucking shite stained cum dumpster. We fucking helped you get Maria back, and we made sure she got her vengeance.”

“That doesn’t make up for?—”

“The fuck it doesn’t. You did this because of me and a bet we made when we were twenty. It’s not my fault your dad found out. You’ve waited this fucking long to get back at me, and like a little bitch who’s been sulking, you knew I was too much for you, so you went after my woman. You better fucking hide behind Maria because if I get hold of you, I will finally do what I’ve been threatening since we were thirteen, and you broke Sean’s brand-new phone and got me blamed for it. You petty, whiny little bitch. I will take it all from you.”

I thrust my hand out, and Sean gives me his phone. I fire off texts in the minute Matteo’s silent.

“You don’t scare me any more than you did when we were twenty. I may have lost the bet that cost me that Ferrari, but you’re the one who broke his arm crashing it just to beat me across the finish line.”

I don’t pay attention as he rambles. It buys me a few more minutes. I interject here and there to keep him going until I’m ready.

“I hope Maria’s at work.” I know she is. “Because it’ll be awfully sad if she’s at home.” I know he’s not there either.

“What the fuck did?—”

I hear an alarm go off in the background. It’s handy having your family live in the same neighborhood as your enemies. It means you have guards around to run errands.

“Shane!”

“Not my fault your guards don’t know how to look up.”

Sean’s house is the closest, and he just got a very expensive drone that does more than take photos. Matteo doesn’t have many windows left.

He goes silent, and I’m certain he’s scrambling to figure out what I’ve unleashed. I hear a phone notification ping in the background.

“You will?—”

“What? Hmm? What now, Matteo?” I’m patronizing as fuck.

“What the fuck did you do to my Bronx project?”

“You should lock up your demolition supplies better.”

We have people at the station working some low-level Cartel guys over. Matteo’s an architect, and he has a venture capitalist breathing down his neck to finish a project that fell behind. Now it fell apart.

Great coincidence it was a block from the abandoned train station where we handle our most unsavory tasks. I send one more text. The line remains quiet except for the sound of his fingers on his keyboard. Then he erupts.

“I’m the petty bitch? You mi fa cagare !” It means you make me shite. He basically called me despicable.

“If I can’t have it, then neither can you.”

“You had someone blow up the fucking yacht, faccia de cazzo !” Testicle face.

“Yup. I was going to steal it today anyway, so my guys were there already.” I had. It wasn’t until I waited for Carrie to come out of the restroom that I thought to give it to her.

“Enough! Kill Angela or do whatever the fuck you want. I don’t give a shit. I don’t have time to deal with her today. But don’t go near Maria. I’m serious, Shane. Things are different now. If she was untouchable before, you have no idea what my family will do if you upset her even for a second.”

That makes me stop. “Is she pregnant?”

“Yeah, and high risk, so stay the fuck away.”

The call’s on speaker. We all hear the catch in Matteo’s voice. I look around at the guys. They all nod.

“Do you need anything? I know she knows Ally already, but should Finn tell her to talk to Maria?”

My sister-in-law’s a neonatologist, not an OBGYN, but they’re also friends. Ally’s pregnant too.

“No, but thank you.”

“Should our moms send over food?”

Matteo chuckles, the tone a hundred-and-eighty degrees from what it was a moment ago. “No. Our moms have already made enough to keep us fed till the second coming.”

“So, she’s not in any immediate danger?”

“No. She needs to take it easy, though.”

“Then I guess Carmine’ll have to make up for it.”

“You sick fucker.”

“I like your wife. I don’t like any of the rest of you. Killing you will stress her out. She loves her cousin, but he’s not you or her brothers. He also works closest to you. If I fuck him over, then I fuck you over without messing up a hair on your fucked-up looking head.”

“What do you want, then?”

“Well, the yacht’s not an option. We’ll take the high-rise project you just got in Brooklyn. The incoming shipment from Jamaica. And I’d like that house Carmine just got Serafina on Corsica. That can be Carys’s wedding present.”

“You—”

“Decide or I blow up more shite, Matteo. I have bodies to dump. Either we make them disappear or make you do it. I want to get back to my wife.”

“I’ll do you one better.”

“I doubt it.”

“I found Enrique’s new lab.”

I glance around the group again. If Matteo’s telling the truth, we could make billions between the product we take and what Enrique’s competitors would pay for us to shut it down.

“Let’s be clear. This doesn’t make us good, Matteo. It makes me not blow anything else up. I won’t forgive or forget what you did. We’ve never liked each other, but I was never the shite stirrer. You went after my woman before you could know who she would become, but you could have called it off. You didn’t. Fuck me over on this deal, and you’re going to explain a lot more to Salvatore than selling a lab.

“Fine.”

“Fine.” There’s a long pause before I do what I know my mom would expect. “Sláinte to you and Maria. Pass all of our best wishes to her. We wish her a healthy and safe pregnancy and delivery.”

“Thank you.”

“For your baby—” I look at the guys. We know what the right thing to do is, even if it might kill us. They speak with me. “May God grant you always a sunbeam to warm you, a moonbeam to charm you, a sheltering angel, so nothing can harm you. Laughter to cheer you, faithful friends near you. And whenever you pray, Heaven to hear you.”

“Th—th— grazie .” Thank you. They switch between English and Italian like we do English and Irish.

“Last chance for Angela.”

“Do what you want with her.”