Vlad
No fucking way. Just when I thought I was the least lucky bastard on this continent, I catch a break.
I’ve been staking out the Bellissimo and Nico Tacone for two months now.
The Tacones took down my entire cell. Junior Tacone and his brothers destroyed the Chicago operation while I was back in Moscow dealing with my mother’s affairs. Granted, Ivan, my idiot second, planned to take them all out and forever end their reign of influence in the Windy City. But he failed. And six of my men were found dead in an Italian cafe.
Victor put Ivan in charge of setting up the street business, but he was too small-minded and power-hungry to make it into much. And when I was sent to join the cell, he saw me as a threat to his autonomy. I had set up a meet with Junior to get the Tacone family involved in my laundering scheme-to diversify interests-but Ivan fucked everything up. When my mother died and I had to fly home to Moscow, he used my absence to try to eliminate the Italians and take the Chicago underworld for himself.
He underestimated Junior Tacone. Six of our guys ready and waiting with guns, and Junior single-handedly shot them all dead.
I’m not heartbroken over the loss of the Chicago business. I’m more concerned with the big money operations of the bratva. I’m the guy who manages our laundering accounts. But killing all the men in my cell? Unacceptable. And Victor, our pakhan, ordered me to exact revenge, so I’m here to do exactly that.
The Tacones may have done the brotherhood a favor by taking Ivan out, but they still owe me.
Victor would go for blood. Kill everyone Junior Tacone loves. That’s the way he operates. But I’m not that guy. Yes, I was raised in the violence and death of the organization, but I’m the money man.
And the Tacones have money. Plenty of it.
But it’s not coming from their Chicago operation. As far as I can tell, they’d begun shutting down most of their loan sharking on the streets in the past few years, and completely closed shop since I’ve been back.
So I came to Vegas. Where they own one of the most lucrative casinos in the country. And I’ve been watching the two Tacones who run it, trying to figure out what my play will be. I was thinking about taking one of their women. Simple ransom. Both men are clearly devoted to their wives-girlfriends-whatever.
And things just got much easier for me. Two limos rolled up this afternoon carrying the entire Tacone family-the three brothers from Chicago, a girlfriend, a mother, and a beautiful young sister in her early twenties.
I got a gossipy cocktail waitress to tell me everything she knows. I found out they’re here for Junior Tacone’s wedding-a spur of the moment kind of thing. The entire top floors of the casino have been closed off for the celebration. Rumor has it Stefano, the youngest brother, might marry his fiancée at the same time.
But I don’t give a shit about their marital status.
All I care about is one Tacone.
The lovely Alessia-baby sister to all five multi-millionaire brothers. I’d been trying to figure out which female to take-which brother would be most willing to pay for his woman. Now it’s easy. Grab the one they all care about.
And I don’t mean the mother.
Of course my decision to take Alessia over the old lady has everything to do with her model-perfect body, mile-long legs, and fucking gorgeous face. If I’m going to hole up with a Tacone female, it might as well be one who’s worth looking at.
All I have to do is knock out one of the waiters before he brings the food up to the wedding celebration and take his uniform and his place.
Alessia
My brother Junior is the biggest stronzo.
Actually, all five of my brothers are assholes, but Junior’s the worst. He informed us this morning that he and his pregnant girlfriend were going to elope in Vegas.
Tonight.
Which meant we all had to fly to Vegas to see it.
Although, honestly, I wouldn’t have missed this moment for the world. Even if traveling means a lot of work keeping my mother happy and my blood sugar under control. And it makes it harder to hide the fatigue caused by my kidney condition from my ever-watchful family. They don’t know about it and that’s how I’m going to keep it for as long as possible.
We’re up in one of the Bellissimo’s top floors, in a reception area with wall-to-wall windows overlooking Vegas. There’s a Catholic priest here to marry them. And the event turned into a surprise double wedding.
Stefano, my only easy-going brother-which doesn’t mean he isn’t just as lethal as the rest of them-popped the question to his girlfriend Corey this morning and they decided to make it a two-fer.
“Mary, Queen of Peace, pray for us,” I murmur and cross myself in unison with the rest of the attendees and the priest.
I can’t believe Junior’s remarrying. Well, it’s not the remarrying part that shocks me. It’s the happiness that radiates from him now as he stands facing Desiree, his tough-as-nails bride. He holds both her hands in his, gazing at her like she’s his whole world. Beside him stands her young son. Watching Junior’s quiet bond with him brings me to tears. Junior lost his preschool daughter in a tragic accident years back and shut down completely. I never thought he’d open his heart to love again. Now he’s not only got a baby on the way, but he’s doing the stepdad thing.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” my mom whispers tearily, squeezing my hand.
“Absolutely perfect,” I agree, crying right along with my mother.
Nico’s pregnant wife Sondra went all out on the decor. The hall must have ten thousand dollars worth of flowers. The pillars and real grape vines draping over the trellises make it feel like we’re back in the old country.
Tasteful and extravagant, yet also low-key, the ceremony fits both couples. Only forty or so family members fill the place. It’s made all the sweeter by the two pregnant bellies-Sondra and Desiree are both expecting.
I’m so thrilled to be an aunt. Children are my passion-I got my degree in early childhood education, even though I’ll probably never be allowed to work. Not by my family. Not by whatever husband my family chooses for me.
It stings knowing I’ll never have any of this-the love, the impromptu elopement, a family.
The expectation was always for me, as the Family princess, to endure a huge virginal church wedding to some Made man of my father or brothers’ choosing. No staring into the eyes of a man who loves me. It would be an arranged marriage all the way.
I used to fervently wish for a love match. Back when I thought I’d actually marry and have children of my own. I was overjoyed when Nico got away with marrying a woman of his own choosing instead of the bride he had been promised to from the time he was ten.
I’ve been allowed some freedoms I never thought I’d get.
They let me go to college. I had to campaign for years just to get Junior to consider it, but in the end, he relented. The diabetes almost kept them from letting me go, though. They see me as fragile. Mamma didn’t want me out of her sight. My brothers didn’t think I could handle myself.
They wanted me to stay where they could protect me-in either Chicago or Las Vegas.
But in the end we all compromised. They sent me to university in the Old Country where I could be watched over by La Famiglia. The Sicilians. And my brother Stefano was there part of the time, too, to keep a very close eye on me.
I’m always guarded like a princess in a convent. Which doesn’t mean I didn’t sneak in a few experiences. I stole kisses with a nice Italian boy who took my V-card in the most respectful way possible. But when he found out I was part of the Family, he couldn’t run fast enough. Which was just as well, because I wouldn’t want him to be hurt.
I was just looking to live a little before it’s too late.
Because what my family doesn’t know is that I’m in stage three kidney failure as a result of the diabetes. I’ve been told having children would kill me.
So the love match and babies of my own isn’t ever going to happen.
In fact, if I don’t take care of myself, I may not live to see twenty-five.