“I do. Very much. Outside of Leo, she’s my closest friend.”
“I like her a lot, and I’m glad she’s here.”
“She will stay for a week to help you settle in.” He pushes a branch away, clearing a path for me. “I have to return to the city on Sunday night.”
I detect the guilt in his tone. “It’s okay, Ben. I know you have to work.”
Tugging on my arm, he pulls me to a stop. “For the first time ever, I have a reason to stay, and I don’t want to return to the city. I will try and wrap things up early one or two nights and either drive or fly here.”
“That would be great, but I don’t want to add to your stress. I want to make your life easier,” I say, holding my gloved hand to his face.
“You already do. I’m so happy you are both here.”
I’m loving how he is opening up to me. This Ben is the one I remember from my childhood, and it’s encouraging to know he hasn’t lost that side of himself. I’m not naïve though. I know he is a different man now. That there is a dark side to him as well. I’m determined to love all sides of him. To understand fully what makes him tick now.
I’m ready to embrace everything that comes with being with him because living my life without Ben in it is no longer an option. For either Rowan or me. I’m committing to him now with everything that entails.
The wind picks up, and we hurry back to the house, settling side by side on the couch in front of the roaring fire in our private living room. Ben swirls expensive bourbon in his glass while I sip a glass of fruity red wine. “You wanted to talk, so talk. I’m an open book,” he says, sliding his arm around my shoulders.
I have so many questions, but starting from the beginning seems the most logical route. “How did you come to leave Chicago? It was after Mateo died, right?”
Ben bobs his head. “I was leaving the bar where I worked one night when I was accosted by a few men. They forced me at gunpoint into a car, and I was driven to a house in Greenhaven, Rye, on the very outskirts of New York. It’s not too far from here, actually.” He takes a mouthful of his bourbon while I wait for him to continue.
“They took me to Angelo’s house. That was the first time I met him. He explained he was my father, that he was the don of one of the five New York Italian mafia families, and his eldest son, Mateo, had just been murdered. He told me, point-blank, that I was needed to fulfill my duty as his sole remaining heir.”
“He strikes me as the type of man who doesn’t hold back.” I turn in his arms, placing my hand on his chest. Heat warms my palm even through his sweater. “That must have been one hell of a shock.”
“I thought he was joking at first until I googled it. It was only fourteen years ago, but even then, no one gave a rat’s ass what was said online. It was one of the first things I convinced Angelo to let me do after I got over my initial shock and resistance.”
I’m not surprised to learn Ben is behind the lack of information on the internet, and I suspect his interest in the tech industry stems from his desire to control all that is said about him and his business. “Did you have to initiate or did you get a pass because you were older?”
He smirks, and I swat his chest. “Don’t make fun of me! You successfully wiped all information from the web, so I’m forced to rely on romance novels for my intel.”
“I like hearing that,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
His expression turns more somber. “I had to initiate, the very next night. I did it under duress, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew I had no choice. To deny him meant death. I initiated and spent a few years training and working as a soldier.”
“Have you killed a lot of men?” I don’t want an actual number, but I won’t shy away from the truth.
“I suppose that depends on your definition of ‘a lot.’ But, yes, I have killed men. Tortured them. Stole from them. I’ve done a lot of shit I didn’t want to do, but I had no choice then. I knew the only way I could change things was by doing the dirty work, proving I deserved my place, working my butt off to earn it and the respect of the men and the other families, and when I took power six years ago, I began my program of changes.”
I take a gulp of my wine before setting it down and turning fully around so I’m facing him. “Tell me about it. I want to know. I remember how shocked and impressed I was when I visited the Caltimore Holdings building. It was not at all what I expected.”
Ben’s face comes alive as he tells me what he’s been doing during the years of our separation. “Tradition is very important to the Italian mafia. To most mafia organizations, actually. But the whole structure needed modernization. RICO laws have made it tough to continue doing business the same way, if you want to stay out of jail. So, I have focused on legitimizing as much of the business as possible, placing huge focus on developing our construction companies, transforming our clubs and casinos into high-end establishments catering to powerful VIPs, networking with the right people in industry, government, and the judicial system, and buying up strategic IT firms.”
“I read about that and formed my own assumptions, but I’d like to hear it from you. What exactly is your interest in technology?”
“First, IT is a very good investment in the current climate. But it also gives us a means of elevating core traditional businesses.”
I wasn’t expecting him to say that, and I’m not quite sure what he means. “I don’t understand.”
He puts his glass down, facing me. His entire face exudes passion, and I can tell he genuinely loves what he does. “Racketeering and extortion were how a lot of mafia organizations were built, but the days of sending thugs in suits to shake up bar owners, restaurateurs, and local store owners are gone. Now we offer protection against online fraud, and our customers pay a monthly retainer to avail of those services. Of course, our tech companies also provide regular services to clients, and we have a division that focuses on internal business—investigative work and keeping shit off the net.”
I mull over my other questions. “So, you don’t sell drugs or guns or sex?”
“Not guns, but we still sell drugs and sex.”
I grimace, and nausea swirls in my gut. “Please tell me you aren’t involved in sex trafficking.”
