Mafia Kings: Valentino: Chapter 43
All I could think about the next day was Cat.
I had a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo that Ludavica had brought to my room after dinner. I’d been reading it as Paolo drove us to meet Rocco.
In the story, a guy named Edmond is engaged to a beautiful girl named Mercédès, but three of his friends betray him and get him sent to prison because one of the guys wants Mercédès for himself.
At first, I saw myself as Edmond: betrayed by someone close to him (Niccolo) and separated from the woman he wants (Cat).
Then Edmond gets sent to prison on an island – which in my case was Sicily.
The only problem with my version was that Edmond was engaged to Mercédès. He wanted to marry her.
I had the chance to marry Cat…noveldrama
But I said ‘no.’
When I realized that, my version started to fall apart.
Niccolo didn’t want Cat. I knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.
And Niccolo didn’t betray me. He was an asshole, for sure – but I knew he was trying to save the family.
I still hated him for it, but he didn’t fuck me over just to fuck me over.
Not only that, but three of Edmond’s friends stab him in the back… and I wasn’t prepared to say Dario had fucked me over.
He’d actually given me a chance to walk away, and I’d turned him down.
In my version, it was like Edmond’s friends had said, You can marry Mercédès right now and we’ll leave you alone. So what do you want to do?
And Edmond said, Naah, I think I’ll go to prison instead.
When I realized that, I had to quit reading.
Instead, I daydreamed about Cat.
I missed everything about her.
Her body –
Her smile –
Her laugh –
Her eyes –
Everything.
Thinking about her – and not being able to have her – felt like being stabbed in the heart.
For the thousandth time, I wished I’d told Dario Yes.
When I closed the book, Paolo looked over. I was in the front seat next to him, same as yesterday.
“Hey, boss – can I ask you somethin’?”
“Sure,” I said, expecting to hear a question about Florence or Tuscany.
“Could you put in a good word for me with the Don?”
I looked over at him in surprise. “What?”
“It’s just… I’ve been working as a driver for a couple of months, and they’re not moving me up,” Paolo moped. “I’m not makin’ hardly any money.”
“I’m sure they’ll promote you when they’re ready.”
“That’s just the thing – I’m not sure they’ll ever be ready,” Paolo griped. “Things don’t move as fast here in Sicily. People stay stuck in the same job for years.”
“What do you want?” I asked, then added sardonically, “You wanna be in Rocco’s crew?”
“It’d pay a hell of a lot better than what I’m making now. Those guys make four or five times what I do.”
“Don’t ever join Rocco’s crew,” I warned him. “Those guys are fucking assholes.”
“I know, I know – but maybe, if you could put in a good word for me – ”
“You know I’m not exactly on Don Vicari’s list of favorite people, right?” I asked humorously.
“But you’re gonna be his son-in-law.”
“If he doesn’t kill me first.”
Paolo looked at me in shock.
“I’m kidding,” I said. After a second, I added, “Mostly.”
“You got pull, though, boss,” Paulo pleaded. “One word from you and I’d be set.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, not wanting to make any promises.
“Thanks, boss,” he said happily. “Thanks a lot.”
I shook my head and sighed.
Paolo had no idea what he was asking for.
If he did, he might want to stay a driver forever.
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