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Love is something I can’t do in my profession. There is no place for love in the mafia.
“But there were women . . .”
That makes me chuckle.
“Of course, there were women, but I don’t think you want to know just how many.”
She shakes her head. I know the feeling. Of wanting to know, but not wanting to, too.
“Nope, don’t wanna know that.”
“And you?”
“Never anything serious. I’ve dated men, but there was never a point in getting serious, none of them would’ve been good enough for my father, and I knew eventually he would try to force my hand onto some political ally. I guess, in this case, he was going to try to force my hand onto your cousin.”
I take a deep breath. My anger is palpable. I can feel it rising up like bile in my chest. Her fucking father. You would think that a man would want to protect his daughter. But he’s a monster just like my cousin, just like my cousin’s father. I’m not a good man, but I would never do what he was trying to do with her. Not to my own flesh and blood.
Needing to change the subject because I’m afraid I’m going to snap, I lift my drink and take a swig. When I’m done, I place it back down on the table and look up at Viviana.
“What’s your favorite movie?”
“Seriously, that’s your next question?”
“If I ask anything else, anything having to do with your father, I’m gonna fucking blow. I refuse for that piece of fucking shit to ruin our night.”
“Roman Holiday.”
“Even though it’s not a happy ending?” I ask.
“Not all stories have happy endings.”
“You’re very right.”
“I’m surprised you’ve seen it.”
For some reason, this girl gets me to say things that I don’t say to anyone, yet here I am, opening my mouth.
“I watched it with my parents growing up.”
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Not about this, anyway.
“Tell me about how that happened.”
“Well, to begin with, Roman Holiday takes place in Italy, and my parents, missing their homeland, made it a ritual that we would have to watch any and every movie that took place in Italy. My father also, well, I think he loved old movies. They were classic movies he grew up with. Movies he cherished, and he wanted me to experience them with him. It’s kind of funny knowing the type of man he was, but regardless of everything, he was a family man. In this business, people claim to be a family man, people claim that the family is the most important but often, like with my uncle and my cousin, it only goes so far, it’s only as deep as their wallet.”
“What about you? What is your favorite movie?”
“Would it be too cliché to say The Godfather?” She giggles at that, and I can tell she wants to ask more. She wants to ask exactly what I mean—if it’s not really my favorite movie and I’m just messing with her. She probably wants to know if my family’s history is anything like it. She probably wants to know if growing up, when I was a kid, if it resembled a world we watched at the cinema.
Not wanting to divulge any more about my past or my family at this very moment, I grab the glass and finish it off before standing and making my way to the bottle and pouring myself another. Viviana’s glass is still full so I sit down next to her.
“Twenty Questions isn’t really working.”
“Well, I guess we don’t have to speak, but I do wanna get to know you.”
“Ask, and I’ll try to answer anything I can.”
“I know I’m not supposed to—” She holds her hands up in air quotes. “The family.”
“That’s only in movies. You’re my wife. This is now your family. I can’t promise I can tell you very much, but I can try.”
“Do you think you will get out?”
“I’m not sure. I think there is a misconception that all we do is sell drugs and kill people. We also help people. We help businesses flourish. We protect the people we care about. I’m sure maybe one day we will get out of the drug trade, but the rest . . .”
She nods as if she understands, and a part of me thinks she does.
Although this is all new to her, it’s not as though she lived a life of ignorance. Men like her father are the reason that men like me are in business. Corrupt fucking politicians. And as long as they’re around, I will probably be around too. I let out a long sigh. This night is getting heavier than I hoped.
“I’m gonna check the lasagna.” I stand from the chair and make my way over to the oven. It’s ready, so I pull it out and set it on the stove. Viviana is standing beside me now. She grabs two plates and silverware and waits for me to serve us.
