AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Alessio glanced at me and then my father, the question in his eyes. Was he allowed?
Fausto gave a brisk nod to Alessio. “You and the dog are welcome to come inside, Alessandro.”
Alessio stood. “Thank you, Don Ravazzani.”
Thank Christ. Relief poured through me. It wasn’t much, but for my father this was a huge step toward accepting my future husband.
And guess what? Gay marriage just happened to be legal in Spain.
EPILOGUE
Giulio
Four months later
An undisclosed address somewhere in Italy
The venue had been changed three times, with the last location coming only fifteen minutes ago. When we arrived, everyone was searched for wires and weapons, and the room swept for listening devices. Guards were stationed outside the building and on the surrounding streets. If you didn’t know better, you’d think a president or prime minister had come to visit.
On one side of the table sat Fausto, along with Zio Marco and me. Alessio and Benito were also both here, leaning against the wall. Giacomo Buscetta, now the head of the Buscetta family, sat opposite us, along with three of his men.
Pasquale Borghese, capo crimine and head of the ’Ndrangheta, had demanded this tête-à-tête with Fausto and me. He now sat at the head of the table, while Bernardo Virga, the most powerful capomandamento in the Cosa Nostra, took the chair at the other end.
After the death of his father and brother, Giacomo had taken over as don in Palermo. With his reputation as a thug, there’d been some concern in our circles that retaliation was imminent. Everyone was on edge.
Introductions were made. When Fausto came to me, he said, “And this is my oldest son, Giulio. He runs our ’ndrina in Málaga now.”
I waited for Don Buscetta to sneer or roll his eyes. Yet I was greeted just as the others had been, with the utmost respect. Perhaps he didn’t know I was gay?
“And this is your ragazzo, no?” Giacomo gestured to Alessio. “The famous sniper.”
So he did know I was gay and that Alessio was mine. Hmm. When Alessio didn’t react, I said, “Yes.”
“I am a big fan of your work,” Giacomo said to Alessio.
Alessio dipped his chin in acknowledgement but didn’t speak. He preferred to let others do the talking at these things. Since coming to Málaga, he’d become my enforcer, spreading terror throughout the city as we solidified control of the criminal underground there. He was brutal and fearless, and I loved that he was mine.
Fausto opened the discussions by speaking first, which was done purposefully to show dominance. “My condolences,” he said to Giacomo, “on the death of your father and brother.”
Giacomo folded his big meaty hands on the table. I heard he’d been a great boxer back in his teens, and I believed it. His nose was crooked, like it had been broken one too many times, and he was huge, with a thick neck and a dark beard. “They were both pricks. I hated them,” he returned casually.
There was really nothing to say in return to such a thing, so my father gestured to Borghese. “Let us get started?”
Borghese smiled like a kindly grandfather, surveying his naughty grandchildren. “The ugliness between your two families has dragged on far too long. We are here today to settle it.”
“Ugliness?” Fausto tapped his fingertips on the table. “You mean how the late Don Buscetta pretended to be my ally while working with Mommo and D’Agostino to take me down? Or how Nino Buscetta sent men around Europe to hunt and kill my son like a dog? Is this the ugliness of which you speak?”
“You have repeatedly cut down our profits from the product coming in from the south.” Giacomo gestured to Alessio. “And your men killed my father and my brother.”
Fausto’s expression revealed nothing. “This does not make us even. At all.”
Virga cleared his throat. He was younger than I expected, for a man in such a prominent position, but he came from a powerful Sicilian family. “We must settle this discord because it is bad for business.”
“We can’t have more dead bodies in the streets,” Borghese said. “Car bombs and shootings. This brings unwanted attention to everyone.”
A muscle in my father’s jaw jumped. He didn’t like being told things he already knew.
“The Sicilian police,” Virga added, “are agitated over these murders, making arrests. Looking for people to blame.”
