By the time everyone moved on to dessert, Faith was ready to hit the panic button.

“Leo?” she said, low enough that she didn’t draw too many curious stares.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he said with practiced precision. She could almost believe the ruse. Something inside her twinged and ached at that moniker, wishing it was real instead of an act for his family.

“Can I go to my room for a few minutes?”

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. I’m overwhelmed. T-too many people here.”

Concern passed over his face, then flitted away. “Be back soon. We still have to go to Mass.”

Of course. Christmas Eve. Midnight Mass. She hadn’t been to church in so long that she dared not participate in the Eucharist, lest some angry lightning bolt strike her down.

* * *

Leo watched Faith’s slight body disappear through the doorway. He pierced Angelo with a sharp glare when his brother’s predatory gaze went after her. In Angelo’s mind, Faith was always going to be a loose end. Leo could almost see the thoughts tumbling through his brother’s head. What if she talked? Even inside Leo’s house, there was family here, and not all of them knew what was what.

The women, particularly. They may suspect something wasn’t quite right, but they were wise enough to never ask questions, to always carefully skirt around topics that might prove their worst fears. So the family ran some casinos in Nevada? It was honest work. It was legal. No reason to suspect anything. Or so they kept telling themselves.

And if any of them were uncomfortable by the quick migration half the family had taken across the country five years ago, they told themselves a comforting story that made everything feel better again. After all, weren’t their lives better? Weren’t they stronger financially? Didn’t the kids now have a brighter future out west? If Grammie and Papi could cross the Atlantic, surely they could cross the country. It’s who their family was… the brave ones who traveled to new opportunity when they found themselves stifled in their homeland.

Angelo settled back into his dessert after another short glare at Leo. Leo raised an eyebrow as if to say: “You gave her to me, what are you so pissed off about?” Being twins, the two of them could have carried an entire telepathic conversation without much trouble, but Angelo’s gaze went back to his coffee, and Leo allowed Fabrizio to pull him back into talk of the sandwich shop.

Angelo’s internal morality had come into the world broken, and the examples he’d received from the men in the family hadn’t served to straighten him out. He’d always been too observant. That, combined with his willingness to cross lines, made him ideal for grooming into his current position of leadership over the Brooklyn crew. Meanwhile, Uncle Sal oversaw both Vegas and Brooklyn and reported back to Papi, who had stopped taking an active role years ago but still liked to remain informed.

Once upon a time, Leo had been offered a chance to climb the ranks. Sal liked him, trusted him. Would things be different now if Leo had chosen that path instead? Could he have managed to keep any integrity or sense of identity that wasn’t covered in blood? He feared had he chosen that life, it would have unlocked the kernel of evil inside him, allowing it to bloom into something truly gruesome.