Papa left his estate to Ben and a token trust fund and some personal items to me. I wasn’t even pissed about it. It’s the mafia way. But Ben refused to take all the money. He split the money in the bank accounts and the cash stash with me, and our old family home in Greenhaven is in both our names.
The house has been sitting idle for two years, since we packed up Papa and moved him into Ben’s place, when his health declined. We can’t leave it sitting there forever, and we need to decide what to do with it. We still pay the staff to manage the grounds and keep the inside clean, and we have round-the-clock security guarding the property.
I go there sometimes to walk the grounds. Mama’s vegetable patch and herb garden is gone, but the orchard still thrives. Our groundskeeper maintains it, and when it’s picking season, I bring the boys there and we grab baskets of apples to take home. For months, our pantry is stocked high with apple jelly and our table is laden with apple desserts and cakes. It reminds me of Mama and my youth, and it’s one tradition I want to keep alive.
“I’m going to surprise Gino with a visit this week.” I chew another mouthful of my chicken pasta dish. “Ben mentioned he is going to Chicago for a meeting on Wednesday, and I’m going to tag along. If I surprise my husband, rather than asking if I can come visit, he can’t exactly say no. I am making him talk to me about NYU and planning to stay for an extended break. Maybe we can patch things up. At the very least, I need to get laid, and he owes me a ton of conjugal visits.”
“Are you taking the twins?”
I shake my head. “They are going on that trip Don Maltese has organized for the younger initiates. They’ll be gone from Tuesday to Sunday, so it’s the perfect opportunity to grab some alone time with my husband.”
“Maybe you can seduce a yes from him. You should stock up on sexy lingerie before you go.”
I bark out a laugh. “I could get my nipples and my clit pierced, paint my body in chocolate paint, and crawl to him on my hands and knees, promising he could do whatever he wants to my body, and it still wouldn’t sway my husband. He fucks me occasionally because he’s not a completely heartless bastard, and, hey, he’s a man. They don’t usually turn down sex. But it’s nothing more than a physical act. A chore. A release. I often wonder if he’s as cold with the whores he fucks or if he just reserves that for me.”
“I hate the unfairness of it all. If he has affairs, you should be able to fuck around too.”
“In an imaginary world, I would, but in this one, that’s a surefire way to earn a bullet in the back of the head.” I eat another mouthful of the creamy chicken pasta. “All I care about right now is returning to NYU. I need this, Frankie, and I’m making him agree to it. I don’t care what it takes; he is going to let me do this.” My eyes blaze with determination as I eyeball my friend. “I need it to keep me sane, and I need to have something to look forward to because the kids are growing up fast, and before I know it, they will be reared. What the fuck do I have to look forward to then?”
35
Natalia
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay until you find Gino?” Ben asks as I curl my fingers around the door handle, getting ready to exit the car.
I kiss his cheek. “I know exactly where he is, thanks to you.” Ben has been using digital tracking chips for years. His penchant for buying up prestigious IT firms has proven very beneficial. Not only has it helped to legitimize most of the businesses, it has given him access to a wide range of tools that help to keep his men safe. He insisted all hissoldatiand his loved ones wear one.
Gino agreed it was a good idea, and we all got the chip. What he doesn’t know is Ben gave me access to the tracking app so I can always locate my family. However, I rarely check up on Gino, mainly using it to keep tabs on the boys so I know where they are, at all times, and they are safe. “I’ll be fine, and I have my bodyguard.”
Gino isn’t as strict as some of the dons when it comes to bodyguards. When I was a girl, Papa wouldn’t let me go anywhere without one. Gino trusts me not to take risks with my safety, and he knows I’m trained in self-defense and I’m proficient with a gun. I always carry a small handgun in my purse.
The rules are clear.
If I’m traveling out of state or going any place that could pose a threat, I’m to bring one of his men with me. While some went with him to Chicago, most of hissoldatistayed behind, as it’s business as usual in New York. Two guys watch our penthouse apartment around the clock, and the guys do shifts.
I’m not on personal terms with any of them, because they rotate so often, but that suits me. I don’t even know the name of the guy who came with me from New York. I just told him I was surprising my husband and I needed someone to accompany me, making him promise not to call ahead.
“Okay.” Ben gives me a hug. “Call me if you are staying, and I’ll have your bag dropped off.”
“Thanks, Benny.” I’m not sure how this meeting will go, or if I’ll be welcome to stay. My main aim is to have the NYU discussion and get agreement to enroll.
Ciro snorts from the front seat, and I flip him off to his face. I don’t know how Ben stands that man. He was my bodyguard at one time, for about a year and a half, and it’s a miracle I didn’t pretend to accidentally shoot him.
Most made men are charming and well groomed. It’s like Ciro deliberately set out to be the complete opposite. He’s the grumpiest motherfucker I have ever met, and I swear he wears the same grubby black shirt under his suit all week. Dousing himself in cheap cologne does little to disguise the smell. Yet he loves getting his hands bloody, his instincts are sharp, and his aim never misses. Ben trusts him, and my brother doesn’t make mistakes.
“I still can’t believe you call the boss that.” Ciro rolls his eyes, and I flip him off again.
Ben watches with a smirk on his face.
“It’s not like either of us knew Benny is an Italian street name for Benzedrine when I chose to call him that.” It’s an amphetamine, and how were we to know? I was so naïve as an eighteen-year-old, and Bennett wasn’t brought up with any knowledge of Italian traditions and ways. Leo had pointed it out to Ben, and we had a good chuckle over it. Neither of us gives a shit what anyone thinks, and the name stuck because it was already our thing.
“Good luck with your meetings,” I say, opening the door.
“Thanks. I’ll need it.”
I know from our conversation on the plane that things are far from smooth sailing within The Outfit right now, and Ben is concerned. I wave at my brother as the car pulls away from the curb.
“I’m going over there,” I explain to my bodyguard, pointing at the Italian restaurant across the street. He trails me to the lights, walking behind me as I cross the road. I check the app again to ensure I am at the right place. “Stay outside please,” I tell the man, and he nods, taking up position at the side wall.
