"That's right."
"How long have you two known each other?" I ask, keeping my voice bright and interested.
"Since we were teenagers. Grew up in the same neighborhood."
"That's so sweet! Like brothers." I turn to Paulie before Bruno can respond. "And you're Paulie! I remember you from the party."
"Yeah." He's grinning, clearly entertained. "Nice to see you again."
"Do you have a last name, or is it just Paulie? Like a rock star?"
The grin falters slightly, replaced by confusion. "Paulie Romano."
"Romano! Are you from Genoa originally?" I'm firing questions like bullets now.
"Naples."
"Oh, I love Naples! The pizza is incredible. Do you miss it? Do you get back often? Does Santino give you enough vacation time to visit family? What's the vacation policy here anyway?"
"Liana—" Santino starts, his voice carrying a warning.
But I'm already moving to Tommy, the giant. "You're Tommy. You're very tall. What do you do for fun? Or do you not get time for fun? Do you get weekends off? I've always wondered how that works in this kind of business."
Santino's hand lands on my elbow, fingers tightening in warning. "Liana."
I turn to him, blinking innocently. "What? I'm just getting to know them! You said I could."
"You're interrogating them."
"I'm being friendly!" I protest.
Sal chuckles from his seat, clearly amused by the whole situation. "She's got energy, boss. I'll give her that."
"Thank you!" I beam at him, pulling free from Santino's grip. "You must be Sal. You're older than the others."
"I am," he confirms.
"How much older? Are you close to retirement age? Does the mafia have retirement plans? Or do you just work until you die? I've always wondered how that works. Like, is there a pension system? What happens when you can't break legs anymore?"
The room goes completely quiet. The kind of quiet that happens when someone has said something they absolutely should not have said.
"That's a good question, right?" I look around at all of them, genuine curiosity on my face. "I mean, we're all going to be family. I should understand how things work."
"We don't really retire," Sal says carefully, though he looks more amused than offended. "We just slow down. Take on different roles."
"Slow down how? Do you still break people's legs but at a more leisurely pace? Like, 'Give me a minute, my back hurts, then I'll get to your kneecaps'?"
Complete silence now.
"Did I say something wrong?" I look at Santino with wide, innocent eyes. "That's what you do though, right? Or is that just in movies? I'm genuinely curious."
"We don't break legs," Bruno says very carefully, as if explaining to a child.
"What do you break?"
"Liana." Santino's voice is tight, controlled rage barely contained. "That's enough."
"I'm just curious! If we're getting married, I should know what the family business actually involves, shouldn't I?" I turn back to the crew, all innocence. "Tell me. What do you actually do? Shipping? Gambling? Protection money? All of the above?"
