Page 1 of Bene

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?”

Vanna Falco had rules. She followed them no matter what. Her number one rule? When her father became loud, she stayed quiet and got out of his way. Not that Adam ever yelled at her because he certainly didn’t. He also never imposed his very large presence on her in such a way that would intimidate her like he did with nearly everyone else around them.

Still, she stayed true to that rule.

One of many, honestly.

Through the Bluetooth speakers in the car, the man her father had been conversing with during the drive tried to reply to Adam with, “This plan of yours, that’s all I am saying. It won’t work the way you think it will. You’re going to get us all kill—”

“Or you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid! It won’t work.”

“It will. Just do what you were told.”

“You’re delusional, Adam, and if you didn’t force my hand here, I would have handed your ass over to the boss for this … scheme.”

“Except you can’t,” Adam replied coldly, “not without outing the fact I knew you were stealing to fund your wife’s gambling habit. So, either way, whether you help or hurt me here, you’re still fucked. Remember that the next time you want to back out.”

A beep sounded through the car speakers, saying the call cut off. The silence crawled on, a lot like their vehicle in downtown Toronto traffic.

The passing city streets, and the phone in her hands where she scrolled through her social media feed, held her attention up until the moment Adam spoke again from the front seat. Although, this time he talked to her, and not someone through the Bluetooth. He navigated the inner-city traffic with ease, and patience—driving relaxes me, he would say.

“Do you know what we Italians respect the most, Vanna?”

When her father spoke, Vanna always listened. Her friends, the few she did make at her private high school, never understood why she preferred spending time with her father instead of doing something with them.

“Do you?” he asked again, dark eyes darting to the Mercedes rearview mirror to meet her stare in the back seat.

“God.”

He smiled. “And?”

“Family.”

Adam tilted his head to the side. “That depends on—”

“Their loyalty to the clan.”

If her father thought he would trip her up with that question, she had a surprise for him. Fifteen years of her life spent under his feet taught her a great many things—the most prominent, and constant, lessons had been about their ways; their rules.

The Camorra way.

The mafia life.

“Good, good. But no, those aren’t the things I mean.”

Vanna frowned, chewing over her thoughts as she tried to pinpoint the lesson her father hinted at with his question. He smiled briefly, the strong line of his jaw softening when she glanced at his profile; it told her that he did, in fact, know he managed to make her hesitate with an answer.

“Maybe I posed the question wrong,” her father mused.

“Maybe?”

He chuckled. “If we hold God and family closest to our hearts, then what would we hold even closer, hmm?”

Ah.

Now she understood.