Most of the family still didn’t believe Leo had done it, but Gemma had seen the look in his eyes that night when she’d come to him. She knew, and no matter what Emilio had done to her or the terror he’d kept her in, she’d never forgive her brother for taking her husband from her and their small boy. He didn’t much blame her. If she’d seen the damage Leo had done to the man before he’d allowed him the sweet mercy of death, she wouldn’t be able to be in a room with her brother at all.

The women started to clear the table, taking Leo’s plate right out from under him.

“Ma, we’ve got people for that,” he protested, knowing as he said it that it was wasted breath. Gina would do what she would do, and God help the poor fool who tried to stand between her and washing the dishes.

“What am I supposed to do until Mass? Huh? Watch the television? Teach Max to roll over? You won’t let your poor old ma do anything for you without complaint, will you? It’s not enough that you haven’t given me grandchildren yet, you can’t let me take care of you, either.”

Leo wisely shut his mouth and let the women do what they were going to do. There were perhaps some Italian families where everybody was a chauvinist, where the men kicked off their shoes and watched sports while the women unhappily slaved away before and after dinner. But if you knew a family, you knew this was as much the women as it was the men. Should an enlightened male make his way into the family, he’d quickly be shooed away and shown his place in front of the television.

Leo suspected the women didn’t just cook and clean and wash dishes. They gossiped about the men. While the men in the family had their secret crime meetings and cues and signals, the women were just as bad. What they did or didn’t know about anything, no one could be entirely sure because they couldn’t get close enough to the kitchen to ever find out. The women had untapped potential. Who knew how brutal the mob could be if it had been run by women instead.

9

Faith had gone straight to her room, Max following behind her. She let him in before locking the door, then went to sit on the floor beside the big picture window. It was night, but with the outdoor floodlights she could see giant puffs of snow drifting down in a steady pattern.

While she’d been at dinner, one of the servants had started a fire in the fireplace. It was one of the touches that made her feel like she was meant to be a guest here. Moments like this obscured the reality of her situation, making her feel like visiting royalty.

The snow, the fire, and the low-level Christmas carols playing over the speakers throughout the house made her feel like she should be happy. Despite being a prisoner, she was trapped inside a Christmas card. What could be wrong with that? What kind of idiot complained or felt sad about that? But she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Leo to come blazing in to claim what was his, to make her pay with her body for all the kindnesses he’d bestowed. After all, she was his property, his ill-conceived early Christmas gift from his psychotic brother.