Page 142 of Effortless

“Seems so.” Tommas waved a hand, and added, “Besides, Tommaso has agreed to begin shadowing Damian. One of the reasons he’s sitting in on this meeting between our syndicates today.”

“Already mentoring with your underboss,” Calisto said, his tone offering nothing as to how he felt about that.

“Do you think he’s too young for it?”

Calisto gestured to his own son. “I think some men are simply a better fit for the position, regardless of their age.”

“Me, too,” Tommas agreed. “Business, then?”

A single nod passed between the bosses; business was the first tall order of the day. At least one hurdle for the meeting was over. Tom could once again thank God for small miracles. Had Calisto been uncomfortable with Tom’s presence at the meeting, he would have had every right to ask Tommas to make his son leave.

It was a test of sorts from Tommas. As far as Tom knew, his father was testing the waters with other syndicates regarding a far younger underboss readying to have a say in the Chicago Outfit. Mafia politics were what they were. Sure, Tom hated them most of the time, but they were still needed at the end of the day.

Tom stayed quiet—like he had been directed to by his father—as the business connections between the Donati Cosa Nostra and Chicago Outfit were discussed. All standard, usual things that continued to keep the peace between their respective organizations. Some upcoming deals that involved money for both families. More politics, but Tom found like this, he didn’t mind them so much.

He didn’t need to prove his worth.

He already had.

Before long, the meeting was coming to an end, and the Donati men stood to leave. After all, it was never a good thing for two organizations to gather together in the same place for too long. Feds took notice, and nobody wanted their picture on yet another corkboard in some suit’s office.

All over again, with a single look from his father, Tom’s nerves kicked into overdrive.

Now or never.

“I don’t think there’s anything else, is there?” Calisto asked.

“Tommaso has something to ask, I believe,” Tommas said, looking to Tom.

All eyes turned on him.

Tom’s mouth went dry.

Fuck.

“Well, what is it?” Calisto asked.

Tom spoke even though it felt like his heart was thumping hard enough in his throat to make him puke. “Camilla.”

“What about my daughter?”

He was acutely aware of all the other men staring at him in that moment. None of them were strangers to him except for the Donati underboss, yet it still felt like it. He was beginning to think he should have done this in a more private setting.

“Tommaso,” Calisto pressed, “what about Cam?”

Just spit it the fuck out, man.

Tom did just that. “I want to ask Camilla to marry me, and I would really like your blessing to do it.”

There, he said it. Now, it was out in the open. No taking it back. His nerves started to ebb a bit. Not a whole lot, though. He still hadn’t gotten a reply from Calisto, after all.

The silence stretched on while Calisto and Tom continued their staring contest. Someone cleared their throat, and Calisto finally glanced down at the table, breaking the tension.

“You don’t need to ask me for that, Tommaso,” he said.

“But I wanted to,” Tom replied.

“What I said remains the same.”