His eyes flashed with anger. “Watch out.”
“An heirless king reigns over a kingdom destined to fall. I am willing to risk the big step. Are you?”
It was the only threat I uttered. My father looked me in the eye, trying to gauge my seriousness, then smiled stiffening. “Peter is still the best choice on the table. Why don’t you tell him the good news? He can have Ines next year. We’ll set the wedding date for August.”
“Father, Ines will only be seventeen then.”
“And the age of marriage and age of consent is sixteen in Minnesota, where she will live with Peter. I expect her to move to Minneapolis and prepare to take over from her father in the next two years.”
“You expect me to be Chief immediately after my marriage to Carla?” Of course, I knew the answer. My pleasant question was meant to provoke.
“Being the chief of the outfit is a completely different matter.”
My father thought it would draw less negative attention to him if they called him Boss, not Chief, as if someone had been fooled by the false packaging. I gave an abrupt nod of assent. ” I will now meet with Peter.”
I did not wait for his dismissal and left. On my way to the car, I sent Pietro a brief message asking him to meet me in fifteen minutes at the Bologna bar, the casino he was running at the time. When I entered the bar, which had an annoying lava lamp theme, Pietro was already perched on a stool. I walked toward him and sat down next to him. He turned around. His hair was immaculate today and his clothes ironed to perfection. “I heard that Jacopo was killed yesterday by a Bratva bullet.”
A Bratva bullet, not a Bratva soldier. “That was unfortunate.”
Peter smiled. I signaled the bartender to offer me an espresso as Pietro did.
“Father agreed to give you Ines.”
Pietro’s expression brightened. “Really?”
“Next year, in August.”
Pietro froze. “I would prefer to marry her the year after, when she is eighteen, Dante.”
“My father insists on the date, and that you move to Minneapolis immediately after the wedding and prepare to become Sub-Chief.”
Peter looked away, running a hand through his hair. ” I don’t feel comfortable marrying Ines when she is only seventeen.”
“I guess because of the sexual aspect of your marriage,” I said quietly, although I was getting irritated at the idea .
Peter gave me a pained look.
“We no longer have the tradition of bloody sheets.
You can wait the ten months until Ines’ birthday. Marriage doesn’t mean you have to have sex.”
Peter stared at the bar. “Dante,” he said softly, but doubt resonated loudly in that word. He lifted his head.
I was not blind. Ines was a very beautiful woman. Her blond hair and blue eyes were desired by many men, and her tall stature added to her charm. Peter would have been as good a husband as any man of her or my disposition. He was also a man, a man who would be entitled to a beautiful woman to share home and bed with.
“I would never force Ines, you know.”
“Ines was raised to be respectful and her duty is to give you her body. Force will not be necessary, Pietro.
You know that as well as I do.” My voice had become sharper.
“I don’t know if — if I’m strong enough to hold on that long.” He peered into my eyes. “Could you hold out for months if your beautiful wife shared a bed with you every night?”
I was proud of my self-control. Was I absolutely sure I could resist? No, but I wasn’t going to reveal that to Peter. “Yes.”
Peter shook his head with a chuckle. “Then you are a stronger man than I am.”
Their wedding took place the following year in August, as my father insisted.
I kept an eye on Ines and Pietro at the wedding, trying to read their interactions to gauge how strong my warning to Pietro should have been. My gaze shifted to Carla who was standing alone, clutching a glass of water. Her parents were dancing. I headed straight for her. She saw me and quickly looked away in the demure way she always had. I held out my hand to her. “Will you dance with me?”
“Sure.”
We danced for a while in silence before I broached the ‘subject that was plaguing me. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”
Her eyes grew wide. “Absolutely. We’re getting married in three months…. right?”
I tilted my head. It had taken considerable effort to convince Dad to get married the same year as Ines, but I didn’t want to wait. Carla’s parents were very conservative and she had already turned eighteen several months earlier. “You seemed reluctant.”
“Honestly, I’m not. I’m just keeping my distance, considering we’re not married yet.” She turned her first genuine smile of the day on me.
“Three months.”
She smiled a little more, blushing, and nodded, and as usual, a sense of calm flooded me in her presence. After the dance with Carla, I headed toward my brother-in-law to take care of the second issue on my list.
Pietro laughed at something Rocco said. Since the old Scuderi had died and Rocco had assumed the role of Councilor, his behavior had changed. Now no one called him Squirt anymore . Freed from his father and brother, he proved to be a Squirt all the way, not depraved like them but cunning and brutal. A good Counselor, one who was loyal to me, not to my father.
“I would like to talk to you.”
Peter nodded and followed me to a secluded area.
“Do you remember a year ago you told me that Jacopo was a monster and that Ines should not be given to him.”
Pietro watched Ines talk to Carla before turning back to me, his eyebrows furrowed. “Of course. I’m glad he was killed.”
“I hope you will prove tonight and every day to come that you are a better man than Jacopo, that you deserve my sister,” I said softly, moving closer to him.
Peter sustained my gaze. “If I don’t, will Bratva also give me an early end?”
“I hope it won’t come to that.”
“It won’t. And not because I fear the consequences.” His expression was hard. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to my wife.”
I was tense, had been all night and all morning. Peter and Ines finally intervened and applause resounded. I did not join them.
Peter had his arm wrapped possessively around Ines’s waist, but Ines was leaning into him, seeking his closeness and protection as the force of everyone’s attention hit her.
She held her head high despite the slight blush on her cheeks.
She looked at Peter without an ounce of fear, and he returned her gaze with adoration. When she noticed my attention, her expression softened, turning into absolute calm.
He gave me an abrupt nod of assent and I returned it because one look at my sister was enough for me to realize that he had treated her as she deserved it . Perhaps betraying the Outfit for my sister would come at a price, but I was willing to pay it.
Ines, the first woman I betrayed the Outfit for.
It was just the beginning.
Twelve years later I held Carla’s hand, pressed my lips to her knuckles.
Her skin was ashen, her breathing labored, aching. I looked up and found her looking at me with tired, sad eyes. “I’m sorry I could never give you children.”
I shook my head, touched her cheek and placed a kiss on her dry lips. “Carla, none of this matters.”
“This is all part of God’s plan, my love.”
I said nothing. In all those years, Carla’s faith had never rubbed off on me, no matter how hard she tried. I was not a believer, now less than ever. If there was a God and this was his plan, I would never forgive him.
“Don’t… don’t get angry. Don’t let it consume you.”
I would have given her the world. But that was not something I could promise. Anger was already bubbling up in my chest, waiting to pour out.
“Will you pray with me?”
I cupped her hands, nodded and lowered my head.
Carla’s whispered prayers bounced off my growing despair.
Carla was all that was good in my life. She was at odds with me.
Without her… what would I have become?
Morphine was not strong enough to make Carla’s waking hours bearable , unless the doctors gave her so much that she almost reached coma.
I held her hand as she whimpered, her face completely sunken in. Few of my enemies had suffered under my torture as much as Carla in the last days of her life. It was not fair. Nothing could have made me believe otherwise.
“I know suicide is a sin, but I want it to end. I just want it to end.” He swallowed. “I can’t… anymore.”
I froze. I knew it was only a matter of time before we had to say goodbye, but Carla’s words threw the stark reality in my face.
I kissed her hand. “It is not really suicide if death passes through my hand, my love.”
“Dante-” “I’ve done worse.” It was a lie. That would have broken the ‘last human part in me, but if anyone was worth that sacrifice, it was Carla.
“Are you sure?” In the past she would have argued with me, recited Bible passages, appealed to the good in me.
The fact that she didn’t even try showed how bad it was.
I nodded.
“You can shoot me. It’s quick and easy for you.”
None of this was going to be easy. And I would never disgrace Carla by killing her as I would a damn traitor.
“Don’t worry. Tomorrow it will all be over and you’ll be in a better place.”
I didn’t believe in heaven or hell. If there had been, our goodbye would have been eternal.
That evening was the last I spent with Carla.
As I approached the bed, Carla smiled faintly. She knew what I was about to do, and relief shone in her eyes.
I had not told her about the details. She had always preferred to remain in the dark about the brutal sides of life. I slipped my hand into my pants pocket and pulled out the syringe with insulin. I lay down on the bed beside Carla and stroked a few strands of her soft hair. Gray streaks mingled as the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth were the signs of her battle against this demonic disease.
A battle she had lost. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “You will find a new happiness.”
I said nothing because any word would have made Carla sad or would have been a lie.
With trembling hands, I prepared the syringe. Hands that were always steady, no matter what happened. Not now. ” I love you, Dante.”
I swallowed. “And I love you, I will only ever love you, Carla.”
She squeezed my hand with sad eyes, then nodded slightly .
Looking into her eyes, I pushed the syringe into her arm.
Before giving her the injection, I cradled her in my arms and kissed her .
once more. A few seconds after the injection, Carla lost consciousness, and as I held her in my arms, her breathing stopped.
I continued to hold her even though she was getting cold, even though the silence in the room echoed loudly in my head.
Night fell outside and then light returned, and I still cradled her in my arms. Footsteps were heard in the house. Slowly, I slid my arm out from under her body and rested her head on the pillow. After pulling out the syringe and slipping it into the basket, I kissed her eyelids and stood up.
I could not look away from her lifeless body, even though the sight of her broke my heart.
“Mistress?” called Zita, and for a moment I thought about sending her away so I could be alone with Carla’s body and my pain, but I couldn’t hide like this forever. I could not do what I wanted to do: lie back down beside my wife and wait for death to claim me too. Life had to go on. I wasn’t sure how, though.
Ines squeezed my hand under the table as she continued her conversation with Mom. I did not react to her attempt to console me, instead excusing myself and heading for the gardens, needing to get away from all the people who pretended to care about Carla’s death when all they wanted was to get into my good graces, knowing that it was only a matter of time before I took the Chief’s place officially from my father.
I could not remember the last time I had been so angry but without an outlet to release my emotions. Carla’s death had been like a cluster bomb, and since then my insides had felt frayed, torn, irreparably damaged. My pain had not diminished, if possible it had grown in the days since I had killed her, and with it my fury, my need to share this agony in the only way possible, by inflicting it on others.
The steps raised my protective barriers but I did not have to mask my face with a calm expression, it always was. My muscles seemed perfectly frozen, while my insides burned with emotions that threatened to undo me and with them perhaps the Outfit.
Peter stood beside me, without a word, and stared up at the night sky as I had done. After a couple of minutes, he cast me a sidelong glance. “We will stay for a week. Your mother is happy to have the twins around, and Ines thought it would be good for you to have family around.”
I gave an abrupt nod of assent.
“Dante,” Peter said softly, tilting his body toward me, and I knew his words would not do what they were intended to do even before he spoke them. “If you need someone to talk to, you know you can come to me. You don’t have to bear this loss alone.”
One hand clenched into a fist at my side, I nodded again, and Peter finally withdrew.
The night sky seemed endless and ominous that night. I wanted to believe that Carla was up there somewhere, looking down on me. Perhaps she would offer me a glimmer of consolation if I believed in an existence after death. I did not believe, and the consolation was unattainable. Images of Carla’s lifeless body, of her coffin lowered into the damp earth crawled through my mind like poisonous snakes.
Two days later, my parents invited the Scuderi family to dinner, and despite my need to be alone, I attended the meeting. There was no one at home waiting for me, and my duty to the Outfit required me to be there. It would not have done to look weak, not so shortly before my ascension to Chief.
Ines, Pietro and the twins were also there. The Scuderi sisters were too old to play with them, but Fabiano was only a year older so he joined Serafina and Samuel in a corner of the room after dinner to play. I barely listened to the conversation, even though it was about the Family and how to ensure peace with them.
“A wedding would have bound us together. Salvatore is eager to find a beautiful bride for his son Luke,” the father said.
“He is interested in Aria,” Rocco said. ” Preferably an immediate marriage.”
My gaze shifted to the girl who was chatting with her sisters on the couch. She was fifteen, too young for marriage and too innocent for someone with Vitiello’s disposition.
“The man killed his cousin with his bare hands. I don’t know if a union between him and one of our girls could be the foundation of peace,” Ines said.
Her father’s eyebrows arched in disapproval, and her mother made a small noise of silence toward Ines. “Your opinion is not valued at this table, Ines. You better worry about how to please your husband and control your children, especially your daughter, who needs to learn her place.”
Serafina was arguing with the boys, holding her own despite her angelic appearance.
In the past, Ines would have lowered her head, but as Peter’s wife, she only had to obey him, not Father, and Peter did not seem bothered by her speaking up.
“I will teach my daughter her place, don’t worry.” Ines had mastered the art of subtle challenge and polite criticism, and so she smiled even though her eyes reflected the same dislike I felt for Father.
Father’s mouth contracted and he looked at me as if waiting for me to scold Ines. He knew that my sister valued my opinion more than his own. I lifted my glass and took a sip of wine, not at all interested in getting involved in this, not today, not when my mind kept reliving Carla’s last smile, her last breath, the moment her fingers loosened in mine.
“Of course there is something to consider before we decide to give Aria to Luca.” Father’s smile was reptilian and my muscles stiffened in preparation for his next words.
“Aria could give the Outfit beautiful blond children. You need a new wife and heir.”
Despite my best intentions, those words hit me like a sledgehammer. After so many years, Father had finally found something to cut me with again. Keeping my expression neutral was an excruciating struggle.
“Carla’s funeral was only two days ago!” hissed Ines, looking at me with obvious concern. “Don’t you have an ounce of respect for her memory and Dante’s grief?”
“You would do well to respect the man who decides life and death in this territory,” said Father.
Peter grabbed Ines’s hand, and from the look in his eyes, I knew he was about to say something that would get him in trouble with my father, and while Father would hesitate before getting rid of a Sub-Chief, he would never get rid of me because he wanted his blood to live on and I was his only option. I stood up and placed my palm on the table, letting out the anger and squeezing the sadness into a tight knot inside me. “This conversation will not happen.”
Even the children fell silent as they stared at me open-mouthed.
I took a step back and walked out of the room, furious, and continued toward the front door, needing fresh air.
Dad was not going to give up so easily.
My suspicion proved correct when Dad and I were invited to the Scuderi mansion a few days later to discuss new developments in a possible union with the Family.
Dad had spoken with Salvatore Vitiello several times in the last few days while I had stepped aside to recover.
My mental state would not have done us any favors in business negotiations at that time. Luca and Salvatore could sniff out weakness from miles away.
“I sent Salvatore pictures of Aria and Gianna,” Dad said. “He would accept both, but he prefers Aria.”
Rocco shook his head. “Gianna is too loud. He’ll beat her to death and then we’ll be left with the problem of how to react appropriately. She needs someone who knows how to control her impulses and break her without killing her . Luca is not that kind of man.”
His eyes settled on me. I ignored the subtle suggestion.
I was not going to marry Aria or Gianna. Those girls were thirteen and fifteen years old, they were just children, and I was a man who nurtured only darkness after Carla’s death.
“We have to make tactical choices that are to the Outfit’s advantage, son.”
I nodded, “It’s true. Giving Aria to Luca seems the wisest choice. I think she will be less likely to provoke him than Gianna.” Considering how I had killed Jacopo to protect Ines from a monster, it was ironic how I had agreed to give another innocent girl to a monster for the sake of the Outfit.
Sacrifices had to be made; that was my father’s credo. I knew there was only one way to save Aria from Luca’s clutches, and that was if I wanted her for myself. Father and Rocco would have gladly agreed. It would have spared her the cruelty under Luca’s hand and taken Father off my back, allowing me to bury myself in my pain without constant supervision. I could have insisted on getting married in three years, and even if Father demanded an earlier date, I knew Aria would be happy if I did not act like a husband, if I did not try to claim her. My gut tightened at the very idea of being with someone other than Carla, of making a vow of that magnitude when Carla was the only woman I wanted to be tied to.
As if he could sniff the thread of my thoughts, Rocco stood up and walked to the door, opening it. “Aria! Come down here for a moment.” Rocco returned to the table and exchanged a glance with Father. I knew what they were thinking, what so many people in the Outfit were thinking.
The golden couple. The name whispered in our circles had begun to do so even before Carla’s body went cold, had begun the moment news of her cancer had spread. I had ignored it, but it had grown to a size that made it impossible to continue. I was left with two choices if I did not want to appear weak, for mourning a dead woman was nothing but weakness in the eyes of so many of Father’s loyal men. Either I would marry Aria, or I would give her to Luca.
Within a couple of minutes, she entered the living room , dressed in a pale blue dress, her blond hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her eyes widened when she saw us, too young to study her features quickly enough. She leaned closer, her hands clasped in front of her belly, trepidation reflected on her face. For a moment, his eyes met mine before lowering his head and turning to Rocco. “Yes, Father?”
My eyes followed her, trying to imagine how I could have been a husband to that girl. There was no way I could allow her physical closeness, much less emotional closeness. The ‘idea of sharing a bed with her, of pretending I could be interested in her, stirred me inside, until anger and pain became inseparable, until my need to inflict the same pain that consumed me became overwhelming. Maybe Luca would have broken her with cruelty, but maybe not. I did not know .
What I knew without a shadow of a doubt was that I would break her with my darkness tinged with pain, that I would eventually take out my anger on her because she had dared to take the place at my side that no one deserved but the woman I had buried only days before.
“We want something to drink. Go to the cigar lounge and get the glasses and the bottle of my favorite scotch for us.”
He nodded quickly before turning and leaving.
I was not going to marry Aria. I couldn’t.
“She is beautiful and young,” my father told me.
“She is.” My voice did not reflect my inner turmoil.
“That’s why we have to give her to Luca Vitiello.
We will make him understand that we are determined to give him the best we can. If peace is our intention, we have no choice .”
Disappointment crossed Father’s wrinkled face , but he inclined his head. Rocco did not look too sad either; after all, his daughter would be given to a future Chief either way. “There’s still Gianna.”
“Father,” I said firmly. “I’m not marrying Gianna or anyone else either. We have other things to focus on.”
He knew me well enough to understand that I would not move on the subject now that I had made up my mind. I did not want to remarry soon, or ever. Carla’s memory was my companion and Outfit’s success my mission in life; there was no room for anything else.
I had vowed to put Outfit above all else, especially a woman, but here I was refusing a bond because of my love for Carla. Not marrying me represented a risk in our circles. It suggested that I was struggling with the death of my late wife and that was an admission of weakness above all else. If the Outfit had looked weak, our enemies might have tried to attack. Not to mention that I needed an heir, a boy who could become Chief when I retired or was killed.
Yet I could not marry, not yet. Maybe never.
It was a betrayal of my oath, but vows to Carla meant more to me. They always would.
Three years later I watched Aria as she curled up next to Luca. Despite her beautiful white dress and bright smile, it was obvious to me that her wedding would not be a day of joy for her. This was no surprise, considering her husband.
Luca’s watchful eyes kept returning to me, like a lion sniffing out another predator in his territory.
He was not someone I would have tolerated in my vicinity under normal circumstances, but normalcy had become an even harder concept to grasp in those last three years.
My mother put her hand on mine. “Don’t you think it’s time to take it off?”
I let go of the wedding ring, which I was twisting around my finger, pulled my hand away and stood up. ” Excuse me, I think I am expected to honor the dance floor with my presence.” My mother’s face reflected the same reproach that her words had brought with them, but guilt had long since lost its impact on me.
But her interference was appreciated nonetheless. I needed to keep up appearances at a time like this, and clinging to the past publicly was not something I could risk. Ines and Pietro had just left the dance floor, one of the few couples who were as happy behind closed doors as they appeared outside, as Carla and I had been.
I banished the thoughts and my eyes settled on Valentina again. She stopped to the side, talking to Bibiana Bonello. I approached her on purpose and her attitude went from relaxed to sophisticated and tense the moment she noticed my approach. She had lost her husband less than a year before, and her father had started looking for her a new husband a couple of weeks before. I held out my hand to her. “Would you like to dance?”
Surprise flashed in her green eyes, but she accepted my invitation and let me lead her to the dance floor.
Silence stretched between us as we began to sway to the music, and I considered the woman in my arms. From the moment Valentina’s father John had started looking for a new husband for his daughter, an idea had begun to form in my mind. Valentina had recently lost her husband and would still be paralyzed by her own grief, which in turn would make her reluctant to seek my closeness, at least emotionally. As for the physical aspect of a possible connection, I had no problem admitting that I was attracted to her, as were most of the men present that evening.
Valentina was elegant and beautiful.
Moreover, she was experienced, which might make her undesirable in the eyes of my parents, but perfect for my purposes. A virgin bride required gentleness and care that I did not have to spare, but Valentina could have been ready for the angry sex I craved, if only to fight her demons into silence.
“I’m sorry for your loss. I haven’t told you personally yet.”
Sadness flashed in her eyes. “Thank you. It means a lot to come from someone who understands what it means.”
My chest contracted, but my mask remained perfectly still.
“Not everyone understands that it takes time to get over pain.” Her eyes briefly darted to her father who was talking to Rocco.
He was obviously unhappy about his attempts to remarry her so quickly, another fact that made her the ‘perfect option. After the dance was over, my decision was made. I would discuss a possible union with her father as soon as mine agreed.
As expected, my father was not enthusiastic about my choice. “She has already been married, Dante. Do you really want a woman who has been claimed by another man? In a few months you will be Chief. You can have any girl you want, why opt for secondhand stuff?”