Book 8
Muffled cries made me stop suddenly in the hallway. The wails were coming from the library. I followed the sound and opened the heavy wooden door. Ines sat in the armchair in her favorite reading corner, a book in her lap, but I doubted she could see a single letter of the words on the pages in front of her. Tears stained her cheeks.
My sister did not cry, never had, and except for a few occasions when she was a little girl, I had never seen her cry. Our father had taught us to suppress any kind of emotional turmoil.
I entered, making myself known.
Ines’ blue eyes lifted sharply, her body stiffened, but relaxed when she saw me. “Oh, it’s you.” She quickly wiped away her tears, avoiding my gaze. I closed the door before approaching her and sinking onto the small puff she usually used to rest her feet on while reading.
“What is it?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain calm even though my concern and protective attitude made it difficult.
She rummaged through the pages of her book, swallowing hard. “Father has decided who I will be given in marriage to.”
Ines was 16, so it was time to make that decision.
That father had put it off for so long was only because he gave him leverage. The tremor in his voice heightened my concern.
“Peter asked for your hand.”
It was a good choice. He was a quiet, reserved man who unleashed his dark side only when necessary, as I did. I had a feeling he would keep it well contained in a marriage.
He nodded and threw himself on me. After a moment of shock, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Ines, tell me what’s wrong. Now.”
“She’s giving me to Jacopo Scuderi!”
Tension radiated through my body. “What?” I growled.
Ines pulled up with her nose, her tears wetting my collar and throat.
She did not stop shaking and shivering. I had never seen her like that, but given what she had revealed, it seemed the appropriate reaction.
Jacopo and I had worked together often in the past, not by my choice. My father wanted me to work with the Scuderi since they were his councilor’s sons, but I deeply detested Jacopo. He was a cruel and vindictive being who thrived on humiliating people he considered inferior, women, low-ranking soldiers subject to his command and his younger brother, and although I was a cruel and vindictive man, I found no satisfaction in humiliating others, least of all women.
The few times I had been forced to visit one of our brothels, I had seen firsthand what Jacopo considered amusing.
I had heard even more horrible stories from his younger brother Rocco whenever he was drunk and couldn’t shut his big mouth. Jacopo was a sadist, in bed and elsewhere.
I could not imagine that Ines knew the extent of his depravity, yet she knew it was the worst choice.
Choking back my fury, I said, “Are you sure it’s settled?
Dad didn’t tell me.”
Ines recoiled, her eyes full of misery. “It’s settled.
He told me this morning right after his meeting with the Scuderi.”
I nodded, realizing why Father had made that choice. It was because I had refused to marry anyone but Carla.
I had challenged him and he understood that he had no way to force or punish me, so in the end he had given in to his counselor’s request. Father knew what kind of men the Scuderi were.
He knew what kind of man Jacopo was, yet he had given him Ines. More than once he had dangled my sister’s fate at me.
I gently touched Ines’s shoulder. “I will talk to him .”
“He will not change his mind. He gave his word to the Scuderi,” she whispered, her shoulders beginning to shake under more sobs.
I got up and walked out. Ines was a trophy for Jacopo. He and her father had been asking Father to give her in marriage to Jacopo for years.
I headed toward Father’s office, trying to keep calm.
Nothing infuriated Father more than not being able to get me to respond. In recent years there had been a shift in power, gradual but definitely present. He could no longer punish me with pain, not after years of making me numb. I knocked on his door, my knuckles burning from the force. What I really wanted to do was break in and demand answers, but my father was still Chief, still master of this house, and he expected respect from everyone around him.
“Come in,” my father said in a drawling voice.
I imitated my face in a mask of calm. It would have been unwise to give my father ammunition against me. As I entered, my eyes fell on my father who was sitting in his desk chair looking at his calendar. We looked very much alike, a fact that people never stopped mentioning. Same cold blue eyes, blond hair and aloof attitude. Every morning I woke up, I swore to myself that I would be a better man. A better boss. A better husband. A better father.
“I’m trying to decide when we’ll both get married.
Your sister’s next year and yours the year after.” He looked up with a calculating smile. Ines was too young to get married. “Or would you rather wait another couple of years before getting married? You are only nineteen years old. Twenty-one then. Maybe you need a little more time to enjoy other women.”
Carla would be nineteen in two years, a year older than Ines, and it would have been unfair to her to make her wait, and I didn’t want to. I wanted Carla. “No. I don’t need to wait.” I paused. “But I’m not here to discuss my marriage.”
My father tilted his head with mock curiosity. “Why are you here then?”
He knew damn well why I was there. Choking back my annoyance, I said, “To discuss Ines’ marriage with you.
Jacopo is not someone we should consider bringing into our family.”
“As the son of my Counselor and your future Counselor, it is the expected bond. The Scuderi family has been waiting for Ines. Jacopo is very eager to marry your sister.
So far he has refused all other women. Rocco is already married and will surely have an heir soon. Jacopo deserves to be rewarded for his patience.”
I did not say that Rocco already had two daughters.
To my father, girls were worthless, which is why he treated Ines as a trophy to be distributed. I shook my head. “He is too old for Ines, father. And his reputation leaves much to be desired. You may not have heard the rumors, but I’ve been working with Jacopo long enough to know that he is a sadist and a psychopath. You cannot allow Ines to be at his mercy.”
My father gave me a look as if I didn’t understand the first thing in life. “If Ines responds to his demands, everything will be fine. Each of us has to make sacrifices. She should be proud to have given someone of her status.”
I looked at him, realizing that he would not let me talk him out of it. “You are making a mistake.”
He raised his finger. “And you should remember your place, Dante. You are my heir, it is true, but I am still the Chief of the Outfit , still the master of this house.”
I swallowed my anger. I had to be smart about it.
Arguing with Father was not going to change anything. I gave an abrupt nod of assent.
“Tomorrow you will work with Jacopo and Rocco. You should congratulate him.”
“I will,” I said in a shrill voice.
Later that day Peter called me and asked me to meet. I knew what it was all about. Given Jacopo’s tendency to brag about everything, he had probably told everyone about his connection with Ines.
We met at the bar of one of our riverboat casinos for a drink. After leaving my drink in front of me, the bartender kept his distance, sensing my somber mood.
Peter was just over two years older than me and was currently working in Chicago before taking his father’s place as Minneapolis Sub-Chief in a few years. I was sipping my whiskey when he dropped onto the stool next to me, signaling the bartender to give him the same one I had.
I glanced at him.
His shirt was crumpled and his dark hair scattered everywhere . As soon as the glass sat in front of him, he grabbed it and drank it in one gulp. Then his dark eyes met mine. “Don’t let Jacopo get his hands on Ines, Dante.”
I turned the glass on the counter. Peter had asked for Ines’s hand twice. As a future Minneapolis Sub-Chief, he was a good choice. He was only six years older than her, not 12 like Jacopo, and most importantly, he was not a sadist.
“Why do you want Ines?” I asked him wearily.
He frowned. “Because I respect her. Despite her age, she knows how to behave. She is proud, elegant and beautiful.”
“And a catch.”
It was an indisputable fact. Any man in our circle who desired Ines would have been foolish not to consider the ‘positive effect a marriage would have on her future.
“Of course, that too. My family wants a union with your family. But since I danced with Ines a few months ago, I knew I wanted her as my wife.” Peter grabbed my arm, forcing me to meet his gaze. The sincere concern in his eyes surprised me. It was not love. He didn’t know Ines well enough for that, but he obviously cared about her. “Dante, you and I know what kind of man Jacopo is.”
Everyone knew what kind of man Jacopo was. He got off on torture. I, too, occasionally appreciated the rush of power it gave, especially if I was dealing with traitors or enemies, but Jacopo enjoyed it sexually, which did not bode well in a marriage.
I tilted my head, trying to suppress the anger flooding my body.
“How can you be so calm? How can you not be furious?”
I almost smiled. My fury was bottled up deep inside me, where it would remain until I chose to unleash it. It had taken years to perfect my emotionless mask; now it was as impenetrable as steel. “My father is the boss. You know it’s his decision, not mine.”
Peter’s eyes were fierce. “But you disapprove of him.”
Of course I did. How could I not approve of it? “Ines is my sister,” I said simply. I wasn’t going to say anything else in public, even though I liked Peter.
“Can you stand by and watch her being given to a monster?”
“Jacopo is arrogant and conceited. He may end up being killed .”
Pietro ordered another drink for himself while I kept turning the first one over in my hands. I had never liked getting drunk . The loss of control and inhibitions abhorred me deeply.
“Eventually it may be too late for Ines.”
I emptied my whiskey. “They won’t be married until next summer…”
“Next summer? Then she will only be seventeen. Won’t they wait until she is of age?”
The bartender lifted the bottle but I shook my head.
I didn’t want to get drunk. “A year is a long time, Peter.” I met his gaze.
He searched my eyes, trying to make sense of my words. I was not going to be more explicit than that.
“You can trust me. I can help you.”
I turned a cold smile on him, saying nothing. I was not going to spill the beans to him or tell him more than I had already said. Peter was one of the few men I trusted to some extent, but certainly not enough to tell him more than was absolutely necessary. “I don’t need your help.”
Rocco and Jacopo waited by the car when Enzo and I arrived. Jacopo smiled broadly, his head even higher and his chest puffed out. I nodded in assent to him and his brother. If I had uttered a word at that moment, it would not have been anywhere near the cold sophistication for which I was famous. Enzo shook their hands , but from the way his mouth thinned when he touched Jacopo it was obvious what he thought of him.
Few people liked Jacopo. I didn’t trust any of them.
Without saying a word, I slid into the back seat. Enzo took the wheel as usual.
“You’re in the back, Squirt,” Jacopo said to Rocco whose ears turned red. In the past, his whole face had turned the same color, but he had learned to shape his features over the years.
Rocco dropped beside me, silent but glaring daggers at the back of his brother’s head. Their animosity went beyond sibling rivalry. It was pure, unconditional hatred.
“Why do you still call him by that name?” asked Enzo in his low rumble as he started the car.
“Didn’t I tell you the story?”
“You told it to everyone repeatedly,” said Rocco softly.
I gritted my teeth. “Really.”
Jacopo threw me and his brother a cruel smile through the rearview mirror. “It’s too good a story to be forgotten.”
I was not present when the name was born. But the story made the rounds anyway, especially since Jacopo brought it up as soon as it went out. Rocco was fourteen years old when Jacopo and his equally depraved friends had first taken him to a brothel. Apparently, Jacopo ordered two dancers to give Rocco some very intense lap dances, which made him cum in his pants. Of course, that was not the end of Rocco’s humiliation. Jacopo and his friends then forced Rocco to undress, wipe his cum on a cracker, and eat it.
They probably would have found other ways to torture him if John Aresco, our Sub-Chief here in Chicago, had not intervened.
“We have a task to focus on and no time to dwell on the past,” I blurted, ensuring silence on the remaining drive to our goal.
Enzo parked a block away from the fabric building and went exploring the area with Rocco. My father disapproved of my taking part in the attacks, but I insisted. However, I was rarely allowed to be on the front lines.
The moment Jacopo and I were alone, leaning against the car, he let out a sigh and smiled in a way that suggested he did not know why humans used that gesture, but that he had adopted it. “Your father has kept me waiting for a long time. My brother is also already married, and I had to wait years for your sister. But she will make it worth my while, I’m sure.”
The smile grew darker, lascivious.
Anger boiled over, beyond my armored defenses. I drove my elbow into his throat. My knife was right under his jacket. One blow was all it would take to save Ines from a cruel fate, a fate no woman deserved.
Defiance and fear flashed in Jacopo’s eyes. “You want to kill me because of a bitch?”
I tightened my grip. One blow and her blood would cover my hands. It would have felt good, better than any kill before him. “Careful,” I said softly. “This bitch is my sister, and you would do well to remember that I will be your Chief in a few years. Show respect.”
“And I will be your Counselor. It’s always been that way.
Our fathers are friends. You can’t kill me.”
It was true. As long as my father lived, I could not kill Jacopo, and even then it would be difficult to explain it to my men. Scuderi was a name that carried power, that belonged to the Outfit. They were loyal. A good reason was needed to get rid of one of them, and protecting my sister from rape and marital torture would not be considered a reason. The very idea that Ines would have to suffer under Jacopo’s sadism made my blood boil.
I set him free. All my life I had worked to become Chief, to follow in my father’s footsteps. I was to rule the Outfit, and I would do it. Nothing would stop my rise to power, least of all Jacopo Scuderi. I stepped back with a cold smile.
“I’m not going to kill you, you’re right.”
His smile became more triumphant, certain of his hereditary immunity. Footsteps were heard as Rocco and Enzo turned the corner, having finished scouting the area.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
They nodded and I gave the signal to attack. As expected, we found six Bratva soldiers inside the fabric building , guarding their latest drug delivery. We split into pairs of two as we tried to eliminate our opponents as quickly and effectively as possible. Jacopo and I ended up in a smaller warehouse with three of the higher-ranking Bratva soldiers, while Rocco and Enzo were busy dealing with the others in the main warehouse.
When I had taken down the first opponent, I advanced into the room and leaned behind a crate near my next opponent. Jacopo stayed closer to the door on the left and took care of enemy number three.
I could tell that my opponent was getting impatient and nervous. His aim was off and he kept raising his head to look toward the door for an escape route. Was he really going to risk a run for freedom? It was pointless.
I aimed calmly, my arm steady as I waited for his next mistake. Finally he raised his head again and I fired a bullet into the bastard Bratva’s head, sending his brains flying everywhere. He fell sideways to the ground, dropping his gun, a Russian model.
Jacopo was still shooting with his opponent.
My gaze was drawn to the Bratva gun. I pulled one of my leather gloves out of my jacket and slipped it on before picking up the discarded gun. Then I raised my Barretta and shot the last Bratva man with it. Jacopo turned away with a triumphant smile, which died when he saw me point the Russian pistol at him. “A marriage with you will not be my sister’s fate.”
He raised the gun at the same time I pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced his left eye, throwing his head back. His body fell backward. For a moment silence reigned around me, an eerie nothingness ringing in my ears.
Betrayal.
I had killed an Outfit soldier. A man who was loyal to the cause, to my father, to the Outfit.
A sharp intake of breath made me turn my gaze toward the door, where Rocco Scuderi stood. One look at his expression and I realized that he had witnessed my murder of his brother. For several moments neither of us moved. I was still pointing the Russian gun at the spot where Jacopo’s head had been.
Rocco’s face went from shock to relief.
Rocco seemed relieved, no, ecstatic to see his older brother dead. There had been no love between the two, but this display of helpless joy was a surprise. I pointed my gun straight at Rocco’s skull, but he didn’t seem to care much.
Wide-eyed, he approached his dead brother with an eerie smile on his face. He spat on the corpse and then kicked him hard several times.
I slowly lowered my gun, squinting my eyes at that show of emotion.
“Look! Look! You got what you deserve!” he raged, his head red and sweaty. “You got it!”
Breathing heavily, he turned toward me. My gun was now pointed at his chest as I tried to decide whether I could risk killing him too. Rocco Scuderi was not a good man , but he was as loyal as his brother, maybe even more so , and he did not share his brother’s sadism, at least he had never openly shown it until that moment.
Rocco’s gaze fell on the gun in my hand, the Russian model that had ended his brother’s life, realizing that it might end his own as well. “I won’t tell anyone,” he said.
I approached him, stepping over the dead Russian in doing so. I did not take my eyes off Rocco. “You won’t?”
I asked coldly. “Honor dictates that you tell your father the truth about who killed his heir, your vow obligates you to reveal any betrayal of the Outfit to your Chief, my father.”
Rocco grimaced, his eyes shining with hatred. “Ever since I can remember, I’ve wanted him dead. I would have killed him myself…” He shook his head. “I am grateful to you for doing that. I will be forever grateful to you, Dante. I will take the secret with me to the grave, I swear.”
“Why?” I stopped a few steps away from him, my gun still pointed at his heart.
“Because you gave me everything I ever wanted. Jacopo is dead and I will be the Councilor.”
I tilted my head. “True. Sooner or later you will take your father’s place .”
Rocco frowned. “If he will allow it. Jacopo was his favorite son.”
Jacopo’s brain decorated the bare concrete floor. “I can’t trust anyone with a secret of that magnitude, you surely understand.”
Rocco’s gaze grew frantic. I could almost see his thoughts running through his head. He took a step forward and I raised the gun higher. “Dante, I will give my father poison, something that is hard to detect unless you are specifically looking for it. Something to make his end look like a heart attack. He’s had one before and it’s only natural that he should suffer another after his heir, his favorite son, was cruelly murdered by a Bratva bastard. You will convince your father that I was devastated and that my father’s death was a natural cause, and I will convince everyone that the enemy killed my brother. That way I won’t be the ‘only one keeping a secret.”
Rocco had the potential to be a useful Counselor, more so than Jacopo ever could have been. His father was only marginally better than Jacopo and too close to my father. If I wanted a gradual shift in power, I would have had to change the key players now. Killing Rocco would have aroused suspicion and left me with Scuderi Senior to deal with for a decade or more. I needed to diminish my father’s power now, in subtle but effective ways. “Wait a week or two. Let him die after the funeral.”
Rocco nodded, relief evident on his face. “Thank you, Dante. You won’t regret it. I’ll be a loyal Councilor if you’ll have me.”
“You will be a Councilor when I claim power, I promise.” I paused. “But if I ever mention this event again, I will conclude what I did not do today. You will take this secret to your grave anyway.”
“No one will find out from me.” Rocco looked at me with admiration and respect. I could not detect the deception in his behavior. I lowered the gun and put it back next to the Russian.
“You have to move it a little to the side so that the angle is right,” Rocco said.
He was right. I dragged the Russian to the left, then put my glove back in my pocket. Rocco nodded in satisfaction.
Enzo walked in like a fury, looking disheveled. His eyes landed on Jacopo. “Fuck. Did those bastards get him?”
I nodded. “He was hit by a Russian bullet. We will have to avenge him. Bratva must pay with blood,” I said firmly.
Rocco smiled darkly. “They will for killing my brother.”
A lie shared. I did not trust Rocco, but I trusted his hatred for his brother and his eagerness to become a councilor. Both would guarantee his silence … for the time being .
One betrayal was always followed by another. It would be years before I realized this.
After a late night meeting with my father, old Scuderi and our Captains, I finally headed for my room. I wasn’t sure if my father really believed that Jacopo had been killed so soon after I found out that he was going to marry Ines. I had a feeling that he knew about my betrayal but had chosen to ignore it. Or maybe he would hold it against me later. I wasn’t sure of his motives. He had only one heir, me, and he and my mother were too old for another child. He was bound to me as I was bound to him if I wanted to maintain the respect of the Outfit.
Patricide was something that would not have been accepted in our traditional circles.
On my way to the bedroom, I stopped in front of Ines’ door. I knocked with my knuckles on the wood.
“Dante?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Come in.”
I pushed open the door, slipped inside, and closed it. Ines was standing in front of the window, already dressed for bed in a long nightgown, her long blond hair flowing down her back.
Jacopo’s disgusting words about what he would do to her flashed through my mind, followed by the grim satisfaction that he would never touch an inch of my sister.
“I wanted to tell you,” I said, but stopped when Ines turned to me. She knew that Jacopo was dead. Absolute relief lit up her face. “You should not listen to the meetings, Ines. Father will punish you.”
Father expected me to punish her too, but I would not have done it. I would not have beaten her or hurt her in any other way. He had never tortured her as he had done to me, but he had beaten her and treated her as if she was worth less. My refusal to do the same infuriated him.
Ines rushed toward me and threw herself into my arms, hugging me tightly. “I am so happy, so happy that he is dead. It’s horrible of me to be happy about something like that, but I am . I could dance with joy. I have prayed every day since I found out about the marriage that he would die, and now my wish has come true. I know it was you. I know you killed him so he couldn’t hurt me.”
“Ines,” I hissed in a warning tone. “What are you talking about ?”
She lifted her blue eyes full of gratitude. “I know it was you. Don’t lie to me. I know you did it to save me from him.”
I said nothing because Ines knew me too well. No matter what I said, I would not change her mind.
“Thank you for saving me. Thank you, Dante. Thank you , thank you , thank you.” Tears filled her eyes again and my chest tightened. She rested her forehead on my chest, letting out a shuddering breath. “Thank you for killing him .”
“Ines,” I croaked. “Shhh. No one needs to know. Jacopo was killed by the Bratva, all right?”
She pulled back, smiling sweetly. “Carla is so lucky to be your wife. If she knew how honorable you are, she would stop worrying so much.”
My eyebrows came together. “Is Carla worried about marrying me?”
Ines and Carla had been friends for as long as I could remember, which was why I knew Carla despite her low status as the second daughter of a captain, according to my father. Knowing that they were talking about me behind my back did not sit well with me. I had not begun to notice Carla until a year ago, when I had brought her home after she came to visit us. It was inappropriate, but Ines was not feeling well enough to join us. The thirty-minute drive at rush hour had forced us to talk, and her sweet lullaby voice as she talked to me about mundane things like sewing or cooking had given me a feeling of calm. While calm was always reflected in my outward appearance, true inner calm had eluded me. I had begun to pay more attention to her. She was beautiful but very shy about it, naturally submissive, kind and religious, almost pious. She was good in a way I strove to be every morning when I vowed not to become like my father and yet failed to do so already at breakfast when I was thinking about how to push the old man away without losing respect for the Outfit. If anyone could bring out the good in me, then it was someone like Carla.
Ines smiled. “You are hard to decipher and, frankly, scary to those who don’t know you, so . everyone but me.”
“She agreed to marry me.”
“Her father agreed, and any captain would be crazy not to accept if he could marry his daughter off to the future Army Chief.”
I stiffened. “If Carla doesn’t want me-”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying, Ines? Tell me.”
She lowered her arms, her smile fading. “I don’t…” He swallowed . “You don’t look like him. You scare me when you do.”
I took a deep breath and lightly touched her arm. ” You have no reason to be afraid of me and neither does Carla. But I need to know if she does not want to marry me, if she is not attracted to me.”
Ines shook her head. “Of course, Carla wants to marry you . Almost every girl is attracted to you, even if you pretend not to notice. Your detachment is driving them crazy.
You should hear the speculation going around. It’s embarrassing. Even Carla sometimes falls into the trap.”
“What rumors?”
Ines bit her lip. “I’d rather not say.”
“Ines,” I said firmly.
“Honestly,” Ines said, blushing. “I’d rather not say.”
“I need to know the rumors about me, especially if Carla believes them.”
Ines looked away. “It’s circulating that you are so obsessed with work and so indifferent to human emotions that you don’t need any kind of physical closeness, which is why some people believe you are…” Ines shuddered.
I raised my eyebrows.
“… You are a virgin. Carla asked me if you are saving yourself for marriage.”
I stared at my sister. Her cheeks were red. She covered her mouth with the palm of her hand and laughed, her eyes rippling with amusement. Her shoulders shook. “I’m sorry.”
This was very typical of our society, especially for our women. They would try to make up stories about me to make me out to be some kind of dream-worthy hero, when I wasn’t at all.
“I know you’re not, and that’s what I told Carla…”
“You know?” I tilted my head, squinting my eyes. Although I was not entirely comfortable talking about my sexuality with my sister, her certainty intrigued me.
She blinked, lowering her hand. “Really?” Her shock made the corner of my mouth twitch. I only looked at her and slowly her face turned to confusion. “You’re playing with me.”
I was, but it was good to see the weight of the last few days slipping away from her.
She shook her head. “You can’t be. Why should you be?
If I could choose the person and even enjoy them like men do, then I wouldn’t wait either.” Her eyes widened. “I will wait, of course. You know I will. It’s not like it’s something I’m looking forward to.”
He grimaced and turned his back on me. “I’m sorry.
You should go now.”
I touched her shoulder. “Ines, calm down. I understand.
You don’t have to fear my reaction. I am not Father.”
She nodded slowly and looked up.
I felt compelled to tell her some truth. “You are right, I am not saving myself for marriage. Even if I wanted to , it would not be allowed in our circles. My first experience was not my choice nor did I like it. As is the custom, our father, like every Outfit father, takes his son to a brothel and pays for his first woman. I was very young and would have preferred to choose a woman for myself.”
Ines turned slowly toward me, her face turned to pity.
“Don’t feel sorry for me. You’re right, as a man I have a chance to have fun before marriage, but marriage doesn’t mean you won’t have fun too. Peter is a good man .”
“Dante!” shouted Ines and pointed to the door. “Now you really have to leave.”
I stepped out and she followed me, her fingers gripping the edge of the door tightly as she closed it until only a sliver of her face popped out. “Will Father allow me to marry Peter?”
“Will you marry Peter?”
“He is handsome.” He swallowed. “Is he a good man ?”
He was an honorable man. “He will be good to you.”
“Then I want to marry him.”
I nodded, “You will.”
After breakfast, I went into Father’s office. Mom was there, too. She wrung her hands. “People consider it bad luck.”
“What do they consider bad luck?” I asked as I entered .
“That Jacopo died so soon after your father agreed to give him Ines. She might be cursed.”
My mother’s superstition amazed me, even after all this time.
My father’s eyes pierced me. “A curse requires that a higher power had a hand in Jacopo’s demise, but it wasn’t God who struck him down, right, Dante?”
“Right. The Bratva is no more heaven-sent than we .”
My father’s smile was stiff, his reptilian eyes in their scrutiny scrutinizing me.
“I worry…” my mother began.
“Worry about clothes and seams, not about things beyond your understanding,” my father said.
My mother nodded and hurried away.
“Peter has asked for Ines’ hand twice. Not even this ridiculous rumor of a curse will dissuade him.”
“I have other offers I must consider .”
I approached the desk. Perhaps he was trying to punish me once again through Ines. I wasn’t going to let him. “Say yes to Peter.”