“I was joking,” Giovanni says, struggling to compose himself. “I didn’t expect you to actually propose to the girl.”
“It’s more like a business arrangement,” I say, walking back on my declaration of love. “It will serve to unite our two families and protect her from Andretti at the same time.”
“Why does she need protection against Andretti?” Marcello asks.
“She’s the daughter of Vincent Rocco,” I say, revealing Marlena’s closely held secret to my inner circle.
Marcello shakes his head, as if he still doesn’t understand. That’s good, because if he were too quick on the uptake, I might think that something was wrong. Rocco is a familiar name. Everyone in the business knows about the Italian family. But Vincent is a little more obscure. Hitmen don’t often generate a lot of press, even in underground circles.
“Her father was a hitman who took out Andretti’s brother,” I explain.
“Oh!” Marcello exclaims, sitting down to process the information. “No wonder she needs protection. And you think that if you marry the girl, then Andretti won’t make a move.”
“That’s right,” I agree. “And if I can get in touch with the family in the old country, I might be able to make good on Frankie’s betrothal.”
“Frankie’s betrothal?” Marcello wonders.
“A long time ago, I promised Frankie to one of the Rocca girls. But she died in childhood and the wedding was called off,” I tell the tale one more time, making sure that everyone is up to speed.
Marcello looks at Giovanni, who shrugs. If I were expecting any kind of feedback from either of them, it looks like I’m on my own. They’re both too savvy to get between me and something I’ve decided on. Which is good.
One by one, my capos arrive, and I fill them in. I’m not planning the wedding just yet. Marlena still hasn’t given me her answer. But I’m fairly confident of my chances. I’ve laid out a good argument, several in fact. My only concern is the look in her eyes when I left her. There was something she wanted from me that I didn’t give her, and I’m not sure what that is. I hope it’s not big enough to cause her to reconsider staying with me.
I haven’t put my foot down, and I’ve been hospitable. But if the choice is between staying on her good side and keeping her alive, I know what decision I’m going to make. She’s not a prisoner in my home, but she could be. I won’t allow Andretti to get to her, no matter what I have to do to prevent it.
“What do you think?” I ask Giovanni. He’s my brother, and I value his opinion above all others.
“It’s your life,” Giovanni says with a shrug.
I narrow my eyes at him. “That’s not the kind of feedback I’m looking for.”
“If you’re asking for my blessings…” Giovanni begins, unsure how to respond.
“No,” I tell him.
“Good,” he snaps, “Because you know how I feel about marriage in general.”
Giovanni is a self-inflicted bachelor. He’s sworn never to tie himself down to one lady, even in the old mafia tradition where he’s free to have a few girlfriends on the side. He’s told me repeatedly that he doesn’t see any advantage in marriage. When I was married to Alessia, he teased me about not being able to dip my pen in any other inkwells.
I told him I didn’t want to. One woman was enough for me. But he didn’t see it that way. He couldn’t understand why I would cut myself off at the dick that way. And I guess things haven’t changed.
“If you’re asking about the politics, sure,” Giovanni continues.
I take that to heart. I know my instincts are solid. Forging marriage bonds with the Rocca family is good business. It will send a signal not only to Andretti, but to the rest of our enemies that we’re more powerful than ever.
“Okay,” I agree. “Then we’re all set.”
“Yes boss,” a few of my capos say.
“Sure,” Marcello replies, looking bored.
“You got somewhere else you gotta be?” I demand.
“No,” he says immediately, shaking his head.
“Good,” I announce, closing the meeting. “I want everyone to lean on their informants about Andretti. If he makes any move, no matter how small, I want to know about it.” I suspect he already knows about Marlena, given that she is in my home often enough, so time is of the essence.
“Right,” Marcello says quickly.
