I was only fourteen when Carlo was murdered by Mateo Mazzone and Leonardo Messina, but I remember the sheer relief I felt when I heard the news.
We didn’t know the identity of his killers for years, much to Papa’s consternation. When he discovered the truth, he plotted with Gino Accardi to double-cross Bennett, but it ended up backfiring when they were killed, along with a ton of other dons and their heirs at the warehouse bombing in Chicago, orchestrated by members of The Outfit who were still loyal to the DeLucas. It was a total shit show, and it’s how Gabriele ended up as don when he had zero desire for the job. It was always supposed to go to Carlo or Primo as the eldest sons.
“You shouldn’t speak ill of our brother or the dead.”
I stand, stretching my arms up over my head and rotating my right shoulder, which still aches after my last job. “I hope he’s rotting in hell. It’s no less than he deserves.”
Gabriele sighs as he stands. “He wasn’t a good man, but I still don’t wish that on him.”
We walk to the window, standing side by side as we watch Mama enjoy afternoon tea in the garden. She’s alone, like usual, but she looks content. I still remember the shell of a woman she was when my father was alive. While it’s too late for her to bloom, now he’s dead, at least some semblance of life has returned to her frail form.
“She isn’t happy I want to move out,” he says.
“I doubt it will make much difference. It’s not like you are here that often.” Guilt splays across my brother’s face, and I feel instant remorse. “I didn’t state the obvious to make you feel bad. She will be fine. It won’t be much of a change, and you deserve to live your life.”
“I do.” He leans into the wall, facing me on his side. “I’m not cut out for this, Massimo. I know you don’t want to do it either, but you’ll be better at it than me.”
Gabriele is too soft for this life, which is one of the reasons I made a pact with him when Papa and Primo were killed and he was next in line to head up our family. “I told you I will honor our agreement, and I don’t mind stepping up earlier, but I won’t be forced into marriage with a stranger. Not by you or Bennett Mazzone.”
“War is coming, brother, and it’s going to get messy. This woman could be the key to restoring peace.” He clamps a hand on my shoulder. “I think you will like her. She’s smart, ambitious, and beautiful. She runs several territories, and she could be the perfect buffer to cover your shortcomings until you are up to speed.”
I grind my teeth to the molars, trying not to let my irritation show. It’s not my brother’s fault he has no clue who I am. I have hidden it from everyone for a reason, but the gloves will be coming off soon.
“We know nothing about her.” I intend to conduct some research and put some feelers out, but I don’t expect it to turn up much.
“We are aware of that fact. It’s the main reason Ben supports this plan. He was impressed with her, and if she can deliver what she promises, she will be a formidable ally. But he suspects there is more she isn’t saying. Having her marry into thefamigliais the best way to keep her close and weed out her hidden agenda. As your wife, she’ll have to bend to your decisions. You will keep her in her place.”
“Youmarry her then.” My lips fight a smirk.
“If she had a dick between her legs, instead of a pussy that has Don Maltese all riled up, I would totally go for it.” He slaps me on the back. “We both know I couldn’t satisfy a woman like that, but you can.”
“So, I’m to be nothing more than a glorified gigolo?”
“Seduce her into giving up her secrets and ensure she’s fully on our side. I doubt it’ll be a chore.” He chuckles. “If she is planning to betray us, you can kill her and marry whoever the fuck you like. I really don’t see the problem.”
I can’t explain it without coming off like a total wimp. What man jerks off to memories of a random woman and a fleeting bathroom quickie that happened years ago? I still can’t explain it to myself. “I’m not committing to anything until I have met her,” I say, knowing I have to at least agree to a meeting.
Gabriele grins, like he knows something I don’t. I feel a childish urge to give him a wedgie. “I’ll set it up. You won’t regret it.”
* * *
“How are you, Mother?” I ask, bending down to kiss Mama on the cheek before I claim the seat beside her. Slouching in my chair, I lean back and tip my face up to the sun, absorbing the warmth and the Vitamin D.
“I am good, son. How was Rome?”
“Overcrowded, overpriced, and overrated.”
“I doubt it’s overrated.” She pours two glasses of iced tea from the jug chilling in the cooler box. Our housekeeper knows how much Mama enjoys sitting outside in the summer, and she caters to her needs with a dedication that is commendable. “Perhaps you could take me the next time you visit.”
“That sounds like a plan,” I lie. Mama thinks I’ve spent the past seventeen years traveling the world for pleasure. Occasionally, she asks if she can come with me, and I hate turning her down. But the line of work I am in means it isn’t safe.
“Did your brother tell you he’s moving out?” she asks as I take a long gulp of my iced tea.
I kick my booted feet up on the legs of the table. “He’s forty, Mama. It’s time he moved out.” I know Gabriele has stayed here for her, but it’s made things awkward in his personal life. Being a gay made man is not acceptable, less so if you’re a don. Sneaking around is hard for my brother, especially when he can’t bring his lovers home. I don’t blame him for wanting a place of his own.
“I will miss him.”
“He will visit regularly like I do.” I make it a point to check on Mama often when I’m not overseas on business.
