Chapter 3

I eyed the hundred-dollar bill and left it untouched.

"If anyone here is in need of a payoff," I said evenly, "it certainly isn't me."

Anthony's jaw tensed immediately. He took it as a deliberate jab at Lilian.

"Gianna, don't test my patience. Your mother was worthless—no influence, no intelligence, no value to this world." He curled his lip. "Lilian still has her whole life ahead of her. Are you truly going to destroy her future over a corpse?"

Daisy bobbed her head in vigorous agreement. "Exactly. Your mother was just a nobody. Wait, are you trying to extort money from us using her death? That’s cruel. I clearly misjudged you."

Lilian resumed her weeping. "Don Falcone, this is all my fault. Maybe I ought to resign if that would help Ms. Vitale feel better…"

"You're not resigning." Anthony pulled Lilian behind him protectively and fixed me with an icy glare. "Gianna, I'm asking you one final time. Are you taking the money or not?"

I listened in silence until they finished, then shook my head. "You've misinterpreted everything. That person under the sheet is not my mother. The only ones who should be concerned here are Anthony and Daisy."

The courtyard went utterly silent.

Daisy's face flushed a deep crimson. "You've completely lost your mind!" Her voice rose to a shriek. "You're actually wishing my mother dead in front of all these people?"

She drove a finger hard into my chest. "Take that back. Right this instant. Or I'll—"

Anthony halted her with an upraised hand. "Gianna, I was willing to grant you some dignity simply because you're not hard to look at. But my mother is the single most important person in my existence."

He stepped closer. "I don't care if we're getting married. I don't care what promise my father made to your family before he passed. You do not get to speak about my mother that way."

He jerked his chin toward the sheet-covered corpse. "Drag that body out. Toss it into the incinerator at the waste plant and use it for fuel. Let her mother serve some purpose for once."

The guard beside him hesitated. "Don Falcone… isn't that going a bit far?"

"I said do it." Anthony's voice carried the unmistakable authority of a don's command. "Gianna won't accept my generosity. She enjoys cursing my mother. Fine. Then she can watch her thieving mother rot in a landfill."

The guard lowered his head and carried out the order.

The other guests murmured amongst themselves, shaking their heads and gesturing in my direction.

"This is exactly what happens when you push Don Falcone too far."

"Anthony's father died when he was young. His mother raised him and Daisy all alone. Gianna has no idea how much he leans on her."

"First the mother steals, then the daughter curses her fiance's mother? They're beyond hope."

I let the gossip wash over me and pulled out my phone, sending off a quick text.

"Anthony," I said without raising my gaze, "are you certain you want to follow through with this? You'll regret it."

He pivoted toward me, his face carved from stone. "The one who'll regret this is you. Your mother died because she couldn't keep her hands off things that weren't hers."

He paused for a second before continuing, "And even now, you won't let her rest in peace. You made a spectacle and cursed my mother. You turned the gathering into a mess. You’re impossible."

No sooner had he spoken than the sound of heels clicking against the ground drew near.

My mother stepped into the courtyard wearing a beige cashmere coat. A diamond necklace sparkled around her neck. She looked perfectly fine.

Her eyes swept over Anthony before she asked, "What's all this commotion? I thought I heard someone had died."