Carmine cleared his throat from across the room. “When I formed this family, I mirrored what the Ndrangheta in Calabria does… keeping it all in the family or married in. It’s easier to keep the omerta and harder for the feds to work their way in.”
Leo’s gaze shifted to Davide. Davide wasn’t married in, but then he’d been in already. Papi had started the family with a few friends who weren’t related, and Davide was the grandson of one of those friends. Same with Vinny. But ever since then they’d been strict about who they allowed to join. A blood relation of one of the original members, or married to one of their women. There was no other way in, and Papi wasn’t wrong. It had made their organization harder to penetrate and kept most of them out of the system. And when they did go away, it was always for something relatively small.
Carmine took a sip of his drink and continued. “I wanted a tight ship, not all this fighting. It was the idea that eventually we’d get out when there were better opportunities, but even with what we do, we’re no more corrupt than most of the corporations of the world. Aren’t we doing the same things? Bribing the government to operate how we like? They call it lobbying. But we’re all using the same playbook. You think there isn’t crime and death in most large corporations? What about the pharmaceutical companies? You’re in medicine, Leo, tell me that’s not corrupt as hell. Tell me thousands or hundreds of thousands of people aren’t dying each year because of drugs rushed through the FDA that aren’t safe. Your Grammie almost died from one of them last spring.”
“I can’t argue with you, Papi,” Leo said.
“Damn right, you can’t. Their hands are stained with blood, yet it’s respectable, but what we do isn’t? And don’t get me started on the government. The government is mafia. Big corporations are mafia. They all screw the little guy, intimidate, threaten, and harm. They’re all out for money and power. The only difference is public tolerance. I want us to go honest to get out from under the law, but what does going honest mean?
Everyone with power and money is mafioso. Every single person.” “Even Leo?” Angelo piped up.
“Leo’s a part of this family whether or not he chooses to be involved with everything we do. I can’t speak to the honesty of his business. I’m sure there are exceptions.”
“Of course. He’s the golden child. We all take huge risks for this family, and Leo gets a free pass. He forgets those stock scams that financed his honest business.”
“That’s enough, Angelo,” Papi said.
Angelo sank into a chair with his cigar and brandy and pouted like he was twelve.
It could be argued that Papi was an old man talking nonsense, or that in his old age he sought justification for his life of crime, but there was an eerie level of truth in his words.
“Things used to be so much better,” Sal said. “This all used to mean something. And now we’ve got this shit with Faith. How much can we trust her? Women aren’t like us. They’ll talk sooner if they feel threatened or scared. They can’t keep the omerta like we will.”
Unlike other families, the women had been strictly forbidden from doing anything illegal. No drugs, no shady dealings. They weren’t even allowed to smoke pot. It might be sexist, but it was true. Women talked easier. They betrayed easier. They had a lower threshold for pain, and most of them couldn’t be trusted to keep the code of silence. It was work for the men and only the men.
“Nobody is hurting the girl,” Papi said. “I’m still boss of this family. If anyone lays a finger on her, they’ll be dealing with me. Leo loves this girl. They’re getting married. So what if she knows we’re mafia? If you think your women don’t suspect this family is mixed up in crime or that most of us have killed someone at one point or another, you’ve all got your heads up your collective asses. You know they know, or at least suspect to the point that actually knowing would make little difference. But they’ve got plausible deniability. That’s what’s important. And we keep it that way.
Understand?”
Leo let out a breath at Papi’s pronouncement of protection over Faith.
“Fine,” Uncle Sal said.
“Whatever,” Angelo said. As if Angelo had intended to kill her. He had to keep up appearances. If Uncle Sal caught wind of how Faith had come to be here, it would be his head on a pike.
Everyone else nodded.
The mood in the room lightened and Davide said, “Hey, I was in Greenwich Village the other day and I saw a T-shirt that said New York City,
Family owned and operated since 1920.”
Several of the guys chuckled; even Papi cracked a grin at that. Despite his grandfather’s talk and hopes, Leo knew the family wouldn’t ever go honest, but he also knew the old man was proud of the way Leo had made his money. Carmine lifted a glass to his grandson and Leo nodded in return.
***
Faith had been lying in bed tossing and turning for close to an hour when there was a knock on the door.
“Leo?” she said as she approached, wrapping a robe around her. She was a split second from opening it when she heard a drunk voice on the other end.
“You stupid cunt,” Angelo slurred from the other side. “I ought to kill you. Do you know the trouble you’ve caused for this family? You aren’t doing your job. Why aren’t you doing what all good sluts do? My brother owns you, bitch. He owns you. You owe him gratitude and blow jobs and anal and whatever fucked-up shit he’s into for stepping in to save you.”
Faith backed away, stumbling over the foot of the bed in her attempt to get to the intercom.
A groggy Demetri answered when she pressed the button. “Yes, Miss
Jacobson?”
“Angelo is outside my door, drunk,” she whispered.
Demetri became alert, and the touch of annoyance evaporated from his voice. “It’ll be taken care of.”
A few minutes later there was arguing on the other side of the door and then silence and then another knock. This time, Faith didn’t make a move, having learned that lesson-almost the hard way.
“Faith, let me in. I don’t have my key on me.”
She released the breath she’d been holding and let Leo in. “Get your cat and come with me.”
“W-where are we going?” Although it was ludicrous, by this point she worried he’d lock her in the dungeon and tell the family they had a fight and broke up. Angelo was right about the trouble her presence was causing.
“You’re sleeping in my room.” He must have seen the fear that passed over her face, because he continued with, “I need you where I can keep you from my brother. He’s not going to start banging on my door and being an ass in the middle of the night.”
Faith tied the robe around her and bent to pick up Squish, who’d been rubbing against her legs and purring, oblivious to the surrounding drama.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she took Leo’s warm hand. In spite of everything that had happened tonight and the heightened danger and seeing Leo’s anger and Gemma’s warnings about her brother’s dishonesty, Faith couldn’t help the way she felt safe with him. Her hand in his had become a welcome comfort.
Even so, sleeping in his room reminded her of when he’d first brought her home. Would he try something now? She was surprised to find her attitude to that possibility had shifted when she wasn’t paying attention. Being the object of his protection, and the displays of public affection he’d shown her for the sake of the family, had done a funny thing to her heart. Now the idea of sleeping with him didn’t seem quite so terrifying or horrible.
But it didn’t mean she was stupid.
When they reached his room, she dropped the cat on the floor, who went right up to the love seat Max was curled on and hissed. The dog jolted from a dead sleep at the sight of her and leapt off the furniture at her demand. She stretched in the spot he’d made warm for her and then flicked her claws a couple of times before snuggling into the soft fabric. Max did the dog equivalent of a shrug and slunk to the chair, curling his large body into the smaller space that would have been better suited for the cat, had Squish been willing to settle for second best of anything.
Leo locked the bedroom door and shook his head at the animals. “I think Max doesn’t realize he ever got bigger than a puppy and can actually defend himself.”
Faith stood frozen on her side of the bed. Would he make her sleep naked again?
“Get in bed.”
“I… um…” She blushed.
“Take off the robe and get in bed. It’s after three. I don’t do well on little sleep.”
Leo peeled his robe off, revealing nothing underneath. Faith quickly averted her gaze from his erection. It seemed a permanent fixture of his physique.
“I can sleep on the couch,” she said.
“You are sleeping in the bed. Get in. You can wear your pajamas. I already told you I’m not going to fuck you, but you aren’t going to be in my house sleeping on a damn couch.”
Had he lost interest? What a stupid question. Her gaze flitted briefly back to his hard on. Of course he hadn’t lost interest. And why should she care anyway? Didn’t she want to be safe from him? Wasn’t having her own space in this house the kindest thing he’d done for her? Maybe it was the adrenaline of fighting with his brother and no real outlet to release any of that pent up energy.
She took off the robe and slid into bed, tense and waiting for… anything.
But the bed was large, and it wasn’t difficult for him to sprawl comfortably on his side without touching her. She held her body rigid for several minutes before allowing herself to relax. He wasn’t going to touch her. She quickly buried the unexpected disappointment that accompanied that realization.
“Leo?”
He sighed. “Yes, Faith?”
“Do they want to kill me?”
“Nobody is killing anybody. Go to sleep.”
A few more minutes of silence passed. Then, “Leo?”
“Yes, Faith?”
“T-the stuff you do in the dungeon… is that why you were going to become a priest?” It was the only thing Faith could think of that Leo might have been trying to suppress.
“Yes. Go to sleep.”
She had more questions, but they were things she’d never ask him. Things about Emilio to convince herself that the death Leo had meted out wasn’t only deserved but had come from protective urges and nothing else. A kind of self-defense by proxy. She could cope with self-defense.
Uncontrolled violence for its own sake, she couldn’t.
Gemma’s voice drifted into her mind. And I suspect he wasn’t quick about it. What made her suspect that? Had he tortured Emilio? Was that another flavor of whatever was inside him that he needed the priesthood to erase?
How long had he harbored the desire to hurt Gemma’s husband before he’d snapped? How long before he snapped with Faith in other ways?