“Recovering.” His tone is flat. “Although it’ll be slow.”

I nod. Sip the last of my espresso as he gets his. Silence drags out, but it doesn’t bother me. I want him to start.

“Look, Sergio, our families go way back. We were neighbors in Calabria.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Yes, but we have history. Shared roots. My boys,” he focuses his attention on the little espresso cup, and I see his mouth harden, see the rage behind it.

Violent men. It’s what we are. He and I both.

He looks up at me. “My boys fucked up, Sergio.”

“Yeah, they did. And Joe fucked up twice.”

“My youngest is sitting in a fucking hospital bed with his face sewn together.”

I study him, my expression even. Give him a minute to compose himself.

“You played together when you were little, for Christ’s sake!”

“Like I said, that was a long time ago. I know you were unaware of their dealings, but I’m not sure that’s an excuse. If you’re unable to control your family...” I let my words trail off.

His shoulders visibly tense up and a moment later, he clears his throat. “It was an oversight,” he acknowledges, knowing where I’m going. Knowing he can easily be replaced. Am I surprised he values his position over loyalty to his own sons?

“Will it happen again?”

“No.”

“Because if it does, someone will be in a box rather than a hospital bed. Am I clear?”

His youngest got his eyes from him. The same arrogance fills them.

“You’re clear, Sergio.” He makes to stand, but stops halfway up. “How’s your mother?”

I feel my eyes narrow, feel hate move through me.

“Your uncle mentioned she’s finished with her treatments.”

My uncle did what? He must see my surprise because I see that minuscule hint of victory in his eyes.

“Wish her well from my family.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Vitelli.”

I watch him leave, rage boiling inside me. How dare my uncle discuss our family’s private affairs with anyone? Especially this.

Checking my watch, I get up and walk to the back door. Eric’s beside the car. I get in, preoccupied now. This meeting didn’t go as planned. As I expected. I’m distracted as we drive to the hospital but when we pull up and I climb out, I take a breath in, compose myself. I’ll deal with Roman later. Right now, I need to be here for my mother.

When I arrive at the doctor’s office, they’re waiting for me. My mother and father sitting across from the doctor, my mom’s head wrapped in a teal blue scarf. Roman is standing off to the side.

“Sergio,” she says when she sees me. “There you are.”