“I haven’t had a chance to dedicate a lot of time to fixing up my details while I’ve been applying,” I tell him. “Plus, a lot of getting a job is about who you know and timing and… well, I don’t know anyone, so I’ve got to do it all the old-fashioned way.” I hold up a paper. “I’m not going to waste time at home doing nothing.”
I scan the page in front of me, but I’m profoundly aware of Dante as he moves closer, lifts a few papers from the couch cushions, and takes a seat. “You’re wrong about one thing, Daisy,” he says, drawing my head back up.
A frown makes the skin between my brows tighten. “What do you mean?”
He grins. “You do know someone; that’s why I’m here.”
“What’s why you’re here?” I ask, tilting my head.
Dante reaches down to grab one of my newer résumés. “The Luciani Family has its fingers in a lot of legitimate businesses, too, you know,” he says. “G mentioned that you were working on applying for positions at some big places here. He asked if I could put some feelers out.”
“He did?” My stupid heart leaps against the inside of my chest. I was already grateful that Giulio let me talk his ear off at dinner every night that he’s come home after our date about my plans for the future, but to know that he went out of his way to send someone to help me… I’ve never even had a boyfriend sit and listen to me before. I guess that’s the difference between aboyfriend and husband. One just hums as you talk and he plays video games, and one gives a shit.
“It would be stupid not to take advantage,” Dante continues, eyes scanning the paper in his hand. “I’m sure one of our exterior business ventures can bring some good connections and opportunities to you.”
“I…” I don’t know what to say so I let the word and what it could be drift off.
When Dante meets my eyes, it’s with a crinkling smile. Blood on his rolled-up cuff. Darkness in his eyes. Just like Giulio. This man is just like Giulio. He’s done dark, awful things. He’s helped to cover up a murder—more than one that I know of, if I count Giulio’s original intended. Yet, I feel like I can trust him with anything. Even my life, if it came down to it.
“Why?” I finally ask, unable to help myself.
The potential of Giulio and me is so new. I keep asking myself,what if it could be more?but I’m scared. Scared to hope that it might be. It can’t be this easy, can it?
Hope is a cruel creature, and I shrink away from it even as Mean Daisy comes out of the dark recesses of my mind, carting a pickax that she holds over it lest it get too close and hurts me. Again. Hope has always hurt me. That’s why Mean Daisy exists. She’s rude, inconsiderate, and biting, but she’s my protector. She has been ever since I realized that no mom or dad was coming to save me from the shadows in my closet or the monsters under my bed.
As if he knows exactly what my mind is full of, Dante gently puts the résumé down on the coffee table, ruining my otherwise sloppy organization, and then reaches for me. He touches myshoulder, and when I don’t move away, his hand slides down to take one of mine.
“I think you’re good for him, you know.” I have no question who the “him” he’s referring to is. “Your relationship might have started unconventionally”—that’s putting it mildly—“but the two of you? I think it might last, which makes you family, Daisy. Giulio is my brother—mio fratello. That makes you my sister.”
That stupid hope bubble bloats, getting bigger, and Mean Daisy’s eyes widen as her hold on the pickax wavers. She glances at me, but I refuse to look back at her. My entire focus is on the man in front of me.
Sister.I mentally repeat the word. Michelle is my sister, but in name only. Her family has always been kind, but if Michelle weren’t around to facilitate the relationship, I know it’d fall apart. Something tells me that if Giulio were to disappear, though, Dante wouldn’t abandon me.
Hope, the cruel beast, wiggles against the floor of my head. Mean Daisy backs up, unsure.
“Let me help you,” Dante insists, then, with a chuckle, he tilts his head and says, “besides, if you don’t, G will beat the shit out of me. He made it clear that I was supposed to come here and get you to agree to let me help you.”
I smile back. He’s right. It would be foolish to refuse him. This is about my future, my dream. I have to say yes even if it burns my pride a bit. The real world relies on connections anyway. I can let Dante get me in the door, but I have to be the one to impress them. It’ll be up to me to do the actual work.
I nod slowly, feeling like my head is on a stick and it’s justbobbing back and forth. His smile is brilliant, but as he releases my hand, I find myself leaning forward and asking a question that’s been on my mind since the first time I laid eyes on Giulio La Rosa.
“Why do you do it?” I ask. “Hurt people? Kill them? Do you have to? Wouldn’t it be easier to be legit all of the time, all the way?”
Dante pauses, and the smile falters. His face doesn’t twist into one of anger, though, and that gives me hope. He looks down and then turns his body away from mine, straightening in his cushioned seat.
“The Luciani Syndicate started a long time ago,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Long before either Giulio or I were born. My grandfather came over from Italy during World War II; he and many of his brothers were fleeing oppressive governments. Starting over in a country that doesn’t speak your language or accept you is difficult for a lot of people.
“They were already hardened men, having formed their own private armies—mafia actually comes from the word ‘mafie,’ which means ‘the same.’ Essentially, they were brothers-in-arms and in a new place that often didn’t acknowledge or accept them. When the authorities wouldn’t help those they didn’t consider their countrymen, they had to help themselves, protect their own, and, yes, oftentimes act as judge, jury, and executioner to people who would have otherwise gotten away with doing bad things to the families of poor immigrants.”
I lean closer, my hands sliding up around my biceps as I become enraptured in this bit of history.
“I think it started because there weren’t many opportunities,and my grandfather knew that power and money would protect his people. My father never wanted to be a king, and I don’t think my grandfather wanted that, either, but when you’re a man of honor, you’ll do whatever it takes to protect those you care about.” He lifts his head and sets cold, honey-brown eyes on me. “Even torture. Even kill. You know what that’s like, don’t you, Daisy?”
My lips part in surprise, but then I think about his words. When Michelle and I were trapped in that alley, when that man threatened her, I felt cold. Ice in my veins. Angry. I’ve been so damn angry.
All of my life, I’ve been a charity case to others. Not to Michelle, though. Her family has accepted me for as long as she’s cared for me, and she’s given me at least a hint of what it could be like to be loved. She’s mine. My friend. Mine to defend and protect.
I don’t regret it.I look down at my hands and imagine them covered in blood. The image doesn’t bother me as I’m sure it should.
