The private suite was packed. Nearly all of Tomasso's inner circle had crowded inside, capos and associates and their wives, laughing and talking over each other like it was a celebration. Like it was a baptism feast already. Armed men stood at the corridor entrance, but they parted for me without a word. I didn't go in. Not yet. I stood just outside the doorway, and I listened.
"Tomasso, does your wife even know Catarina's had the baby?"
"Don't bring her up." Tomasso was leaning over the bassinet, teasing the sleeping newborn with one finger. A soft, doting smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "This kid's gorgeous."
"Seriously, Tomasso. If you look closely, he even looks a little like you!"
"Keep it down. If Giovanna hears that kind of talk, she'll overthink everything."
Catarina lay propped against the hospital pillows, her makeup still flawless. She didn't look like a woman who'd just given birth. She looked like a woman who had won something. "Overthink what? Whether she agrees or not, I'm keeping my promise. This child will carry your surname and be entered into the Rossetti bloodline registry."