Skin by Karin Tabke

polite way to say divorce. Her mother never forgave him. For that and a laundry list of other things. With a male Donatello and an annulment, Connie swooped in and made Francesca’s life miserable.
    Whatever Connie wanted Connie got. Including zero interference when her sweet little angel Anthony required discipline. Anthony learned at a very early age that all he had to do was run to Mama and his problems were solved.
    “I heard his uncle, Sal Vezzio, is yucking it up with the family.” She smashed a chocolate chip under her thumb. “They seem to be listening.”
    Carmine chuckled and eyed the half cannoli on his desk. He picked it up and plopped it in his mouth. He chewed slowly, a look of satisfaction caressing his full features. “Sal is an ass. His brains wouldn’t fill a thimble.”
    “All the more reason to be wary, Unk. He’s a hothead like his nephew. He scares me.”
    Carmine nodded and stood. “Good you think that way,
cara.
But don’t worry. Your health and interests are safe as long as I am alive.”
    Frankie swallowed hard. Her skin flashed cold and she had the uneasy sensation of creepy crawlies scurrying up and down her back. She shook off the feeling. No one would dare touch Carmine. She caught her breath. She had thought the same of her father. Her heartbeat slowed. Carmine didn’t have the enemies Santini did. Carmine always treated the family and foes with respect. In fact, over the past few years, Frankie knew many of the cousins bypassed hotheaded Santini in favor of Carmine’s levelheaded advice.
    As Carmine looked out his window, he said, “Come here and look, Francesca.”
    She stood and walked toward him, stopping past his shoulder. The city lights twinkled under the autumn moon. “You own this town,
cara.
By your name alone there is no one who would do you harm for fear of your father’s wrath and now mine. Go out there and take your pictures. Anthony will come to heel. I have ways to make him see things from my perspective. Vezzio has another thing coming if he thinks I will allow him to have a say in what your father and I have worked so hard for.”
    He turned and took her face into his big, warm hands. She felt secure in the shadow of the dark, all-knowing eyes. “Thank you, Unk.” She reached up to hug him. The sharp ping of shattering glass and a hot sting across her arm startled her.
    “Down,” Carmine yelled before she realized what the sound was.
Pfft-pfft.
Two more followed in rapid succession; more glass shattered overhead. They’d been shot at! She touched the heat on her arm, feeling the warm wetness there. She’d been hit! Her uncle’s heavy body lay protectively across hers. “My God, Francesca, are you okay?”
    She nodded, too stunned to form words. Someone shot her! He rolled off her and, surprisingly for a man so large, he scurried across the room on all fours like a crab running from a gull. He reached up and hit the lights.
    Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and under the blanket of darkness her anger rose. Who the hell wanted her dead? She popped up and peered over the sill just enough to see the empty street below. Son of a bitch!
    Ducking, she hurried toward her uncle, whose large frame was illuminated in the soft glow of the streetlights. His cell phone was open. “Are you hit, Unk?” A quick shake of his head set her mind to rest, then he spoke into the phone.
    “Jimmy, get up here.”

Chapter Six
    “I ’m waiting outside of La Trattoria right now, she wants me to sign the contract tonight,” Reese said into his cell phone.
    “I don’t know how you got her to turn around so quick, buddy, but props to you,” Jase said.
    Reese smiled and looked up to a lighted third-floor window. He knew it was Carmine Donatello’s. He’d been quietly watching the comings and goings of the building for nearly an hour. If someone questioned him, he would simply tell the truth. He was waiting to meet Francesca for dinner.
    He sat up straighter in his truck