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“Actually, I’ll be attending those meetings as well,” I say with a broad smile.
“Delilah, that’s—"
“Is my purpose in this arranged marriage not so the Carluccios and the Russos can form a bond? Work together moving forward?” My hand moves out, gesturing at Carmine.
“Well, yes, but—"
“As the sole Russo heir, I will be taking the position of Donna. If you want to work with the Russo family, you’ll be working with me.” I say the words crisp and clear and watch each one hit Carmine.
His tongue runs along his top teeth as he clearly weighs what to say, but eventually, he nods.
“On to business,” he says, and I fight the smile that wants to play on my lips.
Until I meet Dante’s eyes and see he isn’t bothering to fight it, so I let it out as Carmine drones on with business.
* * *
When the conversation winds down from general information that doesn’t mean much to me, but I still take mental notes on, I speak up.
“I would like to start an event in Eliza’s name,” I say, looking around. Two of the men at the table are older. Not Dante’s men—Carmine’s men.
“In Liza’s name?” one of them asks, and I smile my siren’s smile in his direction.
“I wish I had known her, but I’ve learned a little about her since I agreed to enter the family. She loved Hudson City and loved doing anything she could to benefit the community, correct? I think it would be a great way to get the family back to its roots.”
A test.
“You don’t have to worry about where the roots of the family are, sweet thing,” one of them says. Silvero Cafro. His heavily graying hair is combed back, the sides short and styled in a way that tells me he hasn’t changed barbers in over forty years.
I turn my head to him and raise an eyebrow.
“And why is that?”
“You’re marrying in. Paulie will help guide the family into the new generation.” My mouth screws up and I raise an eyebrow, refusing to back down.
“And I’ll help. My name is on this family now, too. It’s clear that there aren’t many women who sit at this table, but if I have any say in it, that will change.” A scoff comes from Paulie but I ignore it.
He can go fuck himself.
His comeuppance is upon us.
Silvero continues to stare at me, and I wonder if I miscalculated in thinking this man would appreciate and accept a clear speaker, someone who doesn’t back down just because some cranky old man likes things the way they are.
But still, I don’t change my expression. I continue to stare at him with a look that says, And?
A look that challenges him to respond to my words.
And then, finally, he smiles.
A genuine smile, like I passed some kind of test.
“I think I’m gonna like you, mitica.”
“Mitica?”
“Means legendary. That’s what you remind me of. Little thing, but not gonna go down without a fight, are you?” I look around the table at his words, meeting each man’s eyes before stopping on Dante’s.
He’s fighting a smile despite his normal stern mafioso face plastered there.
