"Ma, listen to me." I bent down and gripped her shoulders. "There's nothing you could have done to change the outcome of this situation. Being here instead of Vegas wouldn't have made a difference."
"He wasn't himself." Mom laid her head on my chest and sobbed. "I could tell something was wrong."
"Paulie did this to him," I said in a hushed tone. "Not you. And I promise he will pay for every last sin."
My words put a tiny smile on her face. "He deserves a painful death for what he did to your father and your brothers." Her eyes shifted to Paulie, who spoke to Dante in the front row.
"In due time," I assured her. "They will all pay for their betrayal."
"I worry about you, Nico." She tried to curl her fingers around my bicep, but her hand was so small in comparison. "This city is dangerous."
"I'm a Luciano. People fear us." I hugged her. "We're the danger."
* * *
After the funeral, our closest friends and family returned to my father's apartment to celebrate his life. Dad believed in remembering how someone lived, not how they died.
After his wife's murder, my dad honored her every Sunday by helping Dante make her favorite meals. It became our weekly ritual, something the twins had grown accustomed to over the years. Dante still cooked for us every Sunday. That would probably never change. Cooking soothed him.
We each had coping mechanisms, ways that we survived our brutal upbringing. Our father had prepared us well. And now that he was gone, the four of us had finally come together. Even Dante was treating me like his brother instead of a stranger.
A group of men hovered around Dante, paying respect to the new boss, swearing their loyalty to the new king of the boardwalk.
Ava latched onto Stefan and Angelo's arms as they led her into the formal dining room. The last time she was in this room, she thought we would kill her.
Dante grabbed a glass of scotch and stood in the center of the dining room. He tapped the glass with a knife to gain everyone's attention. Silence fell over the room.
He raised the glass. "My father was a man of few words. But he had one last request." Dante beckoned Ava with his finger, and she rushed over to him. He slipped his free hand between hers and raised their joined hands. "He wanted me to marry a Vitale."
It was time to put our beef to rest. Our dad was right about uniting with the Vitales. There was no point in tearing apart the city anymore.
"The night of my father's murder, we met to discuss my marriage to Ava, Vincenzo Vitale's daughter."
Dante didn't bother to wait for the chatter to die down before he said, "Ava and I are getting married at the end of the month." His gaze moved to Vincenzo Vitale. "From one boss to another, I'd like your blessing to marry Ava."
My brother should have asked before he put his mother's ring on her finger. But Dante was never one to follow the rules.
Vincenzo stepped out from the group of Vitales. "You have it." He raised his glass. "Salute."
"Salute," everyone said in unison.
My mom clung to my side, tugging on my arm. "I thought you were in love with her."
"I am," I whispered.
"But Ava is going to be your brother's wife."
I laughed. "I'm not even going to bother to explain, Ma. We have an agreement that works for all of us."
She rolled her shoulders and drank the champagne in her hand. "I'm not one to judge. Look at my relationship with your father. As long as you're happy."
"I'm happy, Ma."
My mom flashed a set of pearly white teeth and smiled. "That's all that matters."
ChapterEighteen
DANTE
