Isn’t it ironic that I ended up being the traditional Italian wife after all?
It’s as if destiny was at work this entire time, and none of us knew.
“I thought Gino was only supposed to be in Chicago for six months,” Serena says, pouring white wine into two glasses.
“That was the initial plan, but things are taking longer than expected, and it looks like he will have to stay there for at least another six.”
Ben has stayed true to his word, updating me on the details of what goes on in his world. Thankfully, things have settled down in recent months. The Commission is now a united organization comprising all the USfamiglias. They are still working through the details, but having ultimate cooperation between all Italian American made men, for the first time in years, is a big deal.
A lot of that is thanks to Ben’s tireless efforts, and he seamlessly took over as official Mazzone don with no issue. His reputation spoke for itself, and the men already knew they were in good hands. He worked hard to earn their trust and respect, and now he has their unflinching loyalty.
After The Commission orchestrated a successful reclamation of Vegas, Salerno and his scheming daughter returned to Nevada, and the Russians slunk away to lick their wounds and mourn the loss of their ally. We know they will regroup and retaliate at some point, but for now, we have peace and prosperity.
Things aren’t fully settled in Chicago, but The Outfit is rebuilding under the expert stewardship of acting underboss Thomas Barretta. Ben explained how Thomas believes he is too old to lead their men and that fresh young blood is needed. So, The Commission appointed Gino Accardi, Natalia’s husband, as acting consigliere to work with Barretta in identifying suitable men to take up the vacant key positions.
No one knows DeLuca is dead. (I refuse to refer to him as Father anymore. He lost that right when he kidnapped me and tried to steal my future.) As far as anyone is concerned, he is still calling the shots from Sicily, having thrown his full support behind The Commission and Barretta. The Commission agreed with Ben when he suggested that announcing his death at this time would be too coincidental and might raise suspicion. It would also disrupt The Outfit at a time when things are in flux. So, DeLuca lives on in ghostly form, for now. In a few years, when they have a successor chosen and trained and the timing is right, they will hold a funeral for DeLuca and draw a line under his nefarious reign.
“Here.” She hands me a glass of wine, and I take it without argument.
I finish setting the table and pull myself up onto one of the stools at the island unit. “Sit down.” I pat the space beside me. “Ben won’t be home for a while yet, and I take it Alesso is watching the kids?” I asked Serena if she would take Rowan tonight because I want a night alone with my husband. I love having my sister here, for so many reasons, but babysitting on tap is an added bonus.
“The kids are asleep, and Alesso and Frank are playingCODon the Xbox in my living room.” She rolls her eyes, but I spot the faint blush on her cheeks. Although Alesso is still my bodyguard, when we are at the house, I have noticed his predilection for spending time with my sister when he’s not needed. She has denied there is anything going on, stating they are only friends, but I think she doth protest too much! Still, I don’t pry. She knows I am here when she needs to talk, and she has been through sheer hell over the past ten years.
I’m so glad that bastard Gifoli is dead. Gradually, Serena has been revealing the truth behind her marriage, and I’m sick at the things she was forced to endure.
Leo tends to stay over on the weekend, and I’m never happier than when all the family is here together and the house is filled with love and laughter. Pen and Esme visit when they can, but with Pen’s growing family and Esme’s burgeoning legal career, I don’t see enough of them.
Mom flies in once a month, but she’s crazy busy now she has taken over as CEO of Lawson Pharma. She has thrown herself into reclaiming her birthright, and I can’t recall ever seeing her this invigorated. She told Barretta, in no uncertain terms, that Lawson Pharma was done pandering to The Outfit and to go find themselves some other sucker to launder their money. Ben smoothed the transition, and Mom is restoring Lawson Pharma to a fully legitimate organization. Which means she is working nonstop and she doesn’t have much downtime.
Serena sips her wine while I pretend to sip mine, dumping some of it in the vase of flowers on the island unit when she’s not looking. “Have you given any more thought to NYU?” I ask.
“I emailed the administration, and they sent me a bunch of forms and information,” she admits.
Serena is considering a return to college. To do something she likes, this time, and I want this for her, so bad. “It’s your call, sis, but I think you should do it. You deserve to do something for yourself.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” she says. “And I don’t want to neglect the kids.”
“You’re not, and you never could. You know you can stay here as long as you like. We love having you here.” I squeeze her hand. “You can hire a nanny, like we discussed, and you can drive in and out to the city on days when Ben’s schedule doesn’t suit yours.” I lean in closer, smiling. “Do it. Grab something for yourself.”
Her eyes sparkle with simmering hope and more than a tinge of excitement. “You’re a bad influence,” she jokes, sliding off the stool as she finishes her wine.
“I’m a good influence, and you know it.”
“Love you,” she says, leaning in to give me a kiss. “I’ll leave you to get ready for your man. Have fun.”
“Love you too, and I intend to.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m perched by the front door, waiting for Ben to appear. I heard the chopper land a couple of minutes ago, and I rushed out to welcome him at the door.
A low whistle rings out, and I spin around, grinning as Ben strides quickly toward me, with one hand behind his back. Ciro is snapping at his heels, wearing a familiar frown. There was a time Ben considered reassigning Ciro, but he has proven to be versatile and a good bodyguard. He has grown on me slowly, but he’s still a grumpy bastard at the best of times.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, Mrs. Mazzone?” my husband says, raking hungry eyes over my body-hugging little black number. He tugs on the gold-trimmed black bra strap peeking out from under the top of my dress. “Is this what I think it is?” he purrs in my ear, grazing my earlobe with his teeth.
“It is, husband dearest. I know how much you love me in skimpy black lace lingerie, and I aim to please.”
“Is it my birthday?” he teases, trailing his hot mouth along my neck as Ciro hangs back, giving us privacy. “Or Christmas?” Straightening up, he whips out a giant bouquet of roses, fixing me with one of his signature smirks as he hands them to me. “Or maybe it’s yours?”
He never stops spoiling me. The house is always full of flowers, and weekly cupcake deliveries are the norm. I bury my nose in the gorgeous blooms, and my heart feels like it’s going to burst I’m justthathappy. “Every day with you is Christmas,” I say, circling my arms around his neck. “I love you so much, Ben. I hope you know that.”
