Or the near-death experience.
It could be a hundred things, or none of them at all. All I know is that my father, the great Frank Costello, feared Don of the underworld, is as close to tears as I’ve ever seen him. Even my mother looks visibly shocked by his confession.
Alfonso throws me a sympathetic look and steps forward. “If I may, Frank,” he says, his voice sickly smooth.
“No, you may not,” my father snaps, his soft face turning hard as steel as he stares Alfonso down.
“Frank,” he begins, his features hardening like he’s gearing for battle.
“Enough! I have heard enough from you.” My father takes a deep breath, a hard scowl on his face.
Donny clears his throat, making Alfonso aware that he’s getting close to crossing a line and that he’ll step in if need be.
I’m even more confused now. Alfonso and my father have been as close as brothers for years, and now my father looks ready to turn on him. What is happening? Even Alfonso looks confused, and a scowl forms on his face.
My father turns his attention back to Dominic, a look of resolve set on his pale face. “Whatever you want. Whatever you need. No matter the price. Name it and it’s yours.”
The room is silent for several moments, the tension so thick you could scoop it with a spoon. I can tell Alfonso wants to say something but he’s biting his tongue. He takes a step back, coming closer to me, his large frame pressing against my side and making me feel tiny and fragile next to him.
“You need some time to think about it, that’s okay,” my father continues, unperturbed by the atmosphere in the room. “Take some time. I have businesses, properties, a strong drug trade, half of the city’s police force in my back pocket. Take the time you need and then get back to me with what you want, and it’s yours. No questions asked.” He picks up the glass of water from next to him. His hand shakes as he brings it to his mouth. He takes a long swallow, and for a moment all I see is a tired, frightened old man, nothing of the strong, take-no-shit man I’ve come to know and love. He puts the water back down. “But don’t take too long,” he snaps, trying to regain his composure. “My offer expires if you take too long.”
“I already know what I want,” Dominic says, his voice firm and commanding.
“Name it.”
He holds my father’s gaze, his hands in his pockets casually like he’s not asking for anything of importance. “Natalia,” he says, like he’s ordering a Frappuccino from Starbucks.
“Yes?” I automatically reply, thinking that’s he’s asking me for something. Everyone, barring my father and Dominic, turns to look at me, and I’m confused for a moment before it hits me: He’s not asking me for anything. He’s asking my fatherforme.
My father’s gaze moves to me, and I’m too in shock to say anything. To yell no. To yell yes. To argue the point that I’m his daughter and not an item to trade with. To yell that Alfonso was a bad choice, but at least I knew him. This man is a stranger. My own mother is staring in shock, confused as hell as to what is happening.
“Frank?” she stammers.
“I think it will be good for business. Combining our two families, bringing our businesses together. Or collective enforcement,” Dominic adds casually.
“Fuck you!” Alfonso growls. “Natalia is not on the table to be traded.”
“Well, I did say anything,” father says with the quiet patience of a man making a serious decision. He strokes a hand over his chin, the drip attached to his hand banging lightly on the pole next to his bed.
I look over at Sisco and see that he’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly more than happy about this turn of events. He glances between us all. His untamed gaze moving from me to my father, to his brothers and finally to Alfonso.
And then all hell breaks loose.
Alfonso pulls out his gun and aims it at Dominic, and then Joey and Sisco pull out their guns and aim them at Alfonso. I flinch at the sight of so many guns in such a small space, positive that someone, if not several men, are about to die, and I’m going to be a witness to it. Worryingly, Sisco and Joey look positively excited by the prospect of bloodshed.
“How dare you disrespect me like this!” Alfonso yells. “You know that the girl is promised to me.”
Yet Dominic still stands there, his hands still in his pockets, his stature is like steel, commanding respect and authority. He’s all business with no fucks to give as he holds my father’s gaze, oblivious to—or just uncaring about—the gun aimed at his head. And he knows Alfonso, so he can’t be stupid enough not to think that he won’t blow his brains out without a second thought.
“Well?” Dominic prompts, ignoring the commotion behind him. “Do we have a deal, Frank?”
My father’s gaze moves from me back to Dominic. He swallows thickly and holds out his hand. “Done,” he says.
“Like hell,” Alfonso roars angrily. “She’s mine!” He grabs me by the wrist to prove his claim upon me, and I wince. His gun is still aimed at the back of Dominic’s head, but Dominic hasn’t even turned around and noticed.
“Let go of me,” I whimper as his grip tightens on me.
Donny takes a step forward, but it’s irrelevant because Sisco presses the barrel of his gun into Alfonso’s head.
