"Any chance you have an ounce of power to tell him to turn the car around?" I lean over and whisper in Rina's ear. She looks at me through narrowed eyes before leaning against the window. It appears not. After a moment, a sly grin creeps across her face.
"Maybe not," she whispers, "but I do have the power to do this." She clears her throat before leaning toward Dante. "Once we're out of the city, find the first coffee shop. We're making a pitstop."
"Donna—"
"If my husband is making us travel upstate to stay at an undisclosed location, I will be making us stop for coffee on the way. We have plenty of cash to remain untraceable, and God knows when we'll get decent coffee again."
Dante nods wordlessly before tightening his hands on the wheel. Rina wiggles her eyebrows and gives me another grin before settling back in her seat, and I have to stifle my laugh.
We arrive at the safehouse in intervals; Elena and Gianna arrive first, Mamma arrives second, and Rina and I stumble up the walkway arm-in-arm like a party of two.
Much to Dante's displeasure, once we got to the coffee shop, Rina flashed the tiny bottles she'd snuck in her purse. Quickly, our mochas had a healthy dose of Bailey's stirred into them. Our mission rapidly turned from "survive the drive" to "annoy Dante enough that maybe he'll leave us on the side of the road." His resolve is strong though, and the longer he drives, the more we drink.
"Well, I'm glad to see you two have made up," Mamma starts, her hands on her hips as she pulls us into the house and guides us to the couch. Rina and I giggle like schoolgirls, kicking our shoes off as Dante comes through the doorway with our bags.
"I may be guilty of many things, but supplying alcohol to an underage adult is not one of them," Dante assures Mamma with a huff and a shake of his head. "Enzo, get some strong coffee started!"
"On it."
"Caterina Rosso." Mamma reaches to pull the crooked sunglasses off Rina's face.
"Ooh, you're in trouble," I laugh, leaning into her. "She used your full name!"
"Shh," Rina pushes me away. "Mamma, we were just having a little fun while stuck in the car. It's a shitty situation for all of us to be in, and besides, Dante has to listen to me?—"
"Unless you tell him to turn the car around," I slur. "He won't listen to you then."
"Technically, the words never left her mouth. You, on the other hand, princess, I don't listen to when you say it."
I gasp, leaning away from my sister with blurry eyes. "You could have told him to turn around?"
"It wouldn't have done any good. Vito would have ordered him to get us back on the road."
"I smell coffee—whoa, looks like the party started without us." Elena struts in, Gianna not far behind her. "What kind of trouble did you two get into now?"
"Just some light day drinking," I answer as Enzo places steaming mugs in front of Rina and me on the coffee table.
Frustrated, Dante stands on the other side of the coffee table, glowering down at us. "You both have an hour to sober up, then we're having a ground rules meeting."
As it turns out, a ground rules meeting is really Dante lecturing us while Enzo and a handful of nameless soldiers scurry around the house, making sure all the safeguards are in place.
"Not that I think this applies to most of you," he says, narrowing his eyes at me, "but no sneaking out, no defiance, no nonsense."
Elena raises her hand before Dante can say anything else. "What counts as nonsense?"
Dante takes a deep breath, realizing he's been tasked with guarding a group of sassy women all related to each other in some way. Gianna and I repress giggles as his slight frown disappears and he presses his lips into a tight line. "No dosing your coffee with alcohol, no luring people into closets to knock them out, and no scheming."
A wide grin on her face, Rina raises her hand next. Dante takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. "What counts as scheming?"
"Caterina," Mamma swats Rina's leg. "Quit giving the man a hard time."
Shortly after giving us the property overview and telling us to stay within the gates, we're dismissed, and I beeline for the bathroom. All the coffee and water I've had in the last hour hasfinally caught up with me. After taking care of business, I notice a thin window above the bathtub. I precariously balance on the edge of the porcelain tub to get a better look.
I don't have any plans of making an escape right now—Dante and the others will be expecting it—but his speech about no scheming certainly isn't going to stop me from plotting my next move.
The gray sky darkens over the horizon, storm clouds rolling in. Other than the poor weather, the window gives me a clear view of the backyard: a rectangular pool has its winter cover on, and a stone birdbath is situated in the middle of a small garden. The entire yard is fenced in by tall iron posts, making them not impossible—but extremely difficult—to climb. Armed Rosso soldiers walk the fence line, keeping an eye on both sides.
Nobody is going to make an escape easy for me, that's for sure.
