“You’re close with your sister?”

“I was. Before…everything.”

“What do you think of her moving into your father’s house?”

“I’m glad she’s moving in there. I don’t know if I’m ready to sell it. And I’m glad she’s staying nearby.”

“Why didn’t you see each other while you were at school? You could have. Nothing was forbidden.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “You mean like when Marco was standing over us when she came to visit me at the house?”

I gave her my most patient smile. “You didn’t want to.”

“You don’t know me or my family.”

“I’m trying to get to know you. Just because you haven’t been in touch with them doesn’t mean you can’t start again. They’re your family.”

“What about your brother? Are you close?”

“With Dominic?” She nodded. “No. Dominic is…not good.”

“But you were close with Sergio?”

“Yes. Very.”

Neither of us spoke until the waiter interrupted with our dishes. Once he left, Lucia looked at me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to my father before he died. I should have told him I forgave him.”

“Do you? Forgive him, I mean?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I think he was backed into a corner. And you’re wrong, he wasn’t just saving himself. He gave me up to save all of them. You…your father had murdered—”

“I’m getting bored of this conversation. It was a war. Both sides lost many lives. You and I both know that.”

She sighed and pushed ravioli around her plate.

“But you’re right. Your father was backed into a corner.”

“Thanks for that.”

I nodded as I stuffed a forkful of salmon into my mouth. We ate in silence for a few minutes. Every time I looked at her, she’d have her eyes on her plate.

“Your sister isn’t married?” I knew she wasn’t and suspected what the man I’d assigned to follow her would come back with.

“No.”

“If I may ask, who is Effie’s father?”

She picked up a ravioli and turned her gaze fully to mine. “You’re welcome to ask. You’d just have to ask her.” Her mouth spread into a victorious grin.

“Touché.”

“Salvatore,” she started a moment later. “This party,” she put her fork down and wiped her mouth, shaking her head. “I don’t know if I can. He hates me, and I feel the same toward him. I don’t even know why you’re nice to me.”

I reached across the table to touch her hand. “I’m not him, Lucia.”

She looked at my hand covering hers. It was so much bigger than hers. It swallowed her up. It was almost a physical manifestation of my power over her: I could make her disappear.