Eleni
I slam my hands down on my desk on the second floor of the Staten Island house, the long sleeves of my wedding dress dulling the thud. “What the f**k do you mean, you don’t know?”
Amando, the man I’ve begun considering my capo, loosens his purple tie and shrugs. “Nobody knows who the f**k they are. I’ve got a couple reports they were at the church. The guard at the door said he never saw them come in. They’re feds, obviously, but did you see the names on the badges?”
“No, I f*****g didn’t, because I was in the process of having my husband arrested at my wedding!” I suck in a deep breath and run my hands through my hair. I took it down sometime on the ride from the ballroom to here, but a few pins still plink onto the floor around my feet.
I’m losing it. The house is a swarm of ac
