The lower workers.
The ones who would do the dirty work without question.
The ones who were ready to spring into action if anything went wrong.
Ready to prove themselves.
Hungry for a promotion to the easy life of leadership.
And then there were the associates. These men weren’t made men. None would ever be part of the inner circle.
But, from my understanding long ago, associates still played a role. They were businessmen, politicians, and celebrities whodid favors for Gianni in exchange for protection, power, and/or wealth.
To keep that relationship with him steady, they would be here to show Gianni proper respect. I saw a few of them standing near the buffet table, nervously sipping champagne, unsure of where they fit in.
And then there were the women.
The wives, mistresses, and daughters of these men—well-dressed, always poised, and hyper-aware of their perspective roles.
The higher-ranking women moved with an air of confidence, secure in their positions. I could see them subtly directing conversations, their jewelry understated but undeniably expensive.
Many handed me gifts of jewelry and invited me to spa days. To keep their ranking, they would need to get as close to me as possible.
The only problem was. . .I didn’t want to talk to anybody at this time. I was too much in a daze to even be in the mood to make new friends.
But I checked them all out anyway.
There were the others—the girlfriends and mistresses.
They were women on the edge of this world—clinging to the arms of men they hoped would elevate them. Their dresses tended to be a little too tight, their heels a little too high.
After around twenty or so guests giving us gifts, the first associate approached.
He was an older man with a silver streak running through his dark hair. His tailored suit whispered of old money and power.
Maybe, he’s a politician. Or. . .banker?
He extended a hand in my direction. “Signora Fortunato.”
I reached my hand out to touch his.
Gianni gently stopped it. “Now that you aremywife, no one gets to touch you anymore.”
I blinked and kept my voice low. “It is just apolitehandshake.”
“I don’t share what’s mine inanyway.”
I swallowed.
The man yanked his hand back and bowed. “So sorry, Don Fortunato.”
Gianni still didn’t look pleased.
The man raised his head. “It is an honor to celebrate your new love. I will forever be your humble associate. I trust the evening is to your satisfaction?”
I gave a polite nod. “Thank you. I am enjoying myself.”
“Perfect.” He gave me an awkward smile. “I am pleased to hear that. Please accept this modest token of my esteem.”
