Page 17 of Fractured Empire

“Nope,” she chimes happily, popping the P. “You won’t be able to fall back asleep after I’m done revealing my news. I’ve already woken you up and gotten words out of you. You’re up for the day, face it, cupcake.”

“My God, it’s like having a toddler sometimes with you,” I grumble, throwing my blankets off and sliding out of bed. My bare feet hit the cool wood floor of my bedroom and I stretch as I stand up, already missing the comfortable hold of my bed. “What’s your news, Chloe?”

She claps excitedly and jumps off my mattress, rounding it so that she can get as close to me as possible. “He’s looking for a wife! I told you he would be, and now he is!”

“What?” I ask, nose scrunching in confusion. “Who’s looking for a wife?”

“Leon Moretti, who else?” Chloe scoffs, offended that I didn’t immediately know who she was referring to. As if I didn’t just get pulled out of sleep.

Despite her breaking into my studio only a couple of days ago with almost this exact same information, I would be confused right now no matter what the topic of conversation was. I need to splash some cold water on my face and drink an iced chai latte before I can even process this interaction fully.

She practically vibrates with glee as she shimmies and says, “I told you he wouldn’t wait long to remarry, and now his father is putting out feelers to their allies! The funeral is tomorrow, and after that, official inquiries will be made.”

She’s so happy, you’d think it’s Christmas morning with the way she has stars in her eyes and hope in her voice. I love my friend, but sometimes her lack of empathy for others worries me. She’s adopted her father’s signature brand of graveyard humor, and views death as an eventuality, rather than something tragic.

“I don’t even know what to do with this information,” I admit with a sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “The funeral is tomorrow and they’re putting out feelers? Isn’t that a bit insensitive?”

“He’s an Underboss with two kids to take care of, Kat,” she states frankly. “Of course he’s looking for someone to help him out. It’s not insensitive, it’s practical. A man like that is busy, and you know what they say about Morettis. They care about their family more than anything else, so yeah, it makes sense that they’d want his sons to have a mother figure.”

When she puts it like that…

I shouldn’t judge either way, I remind myself silently. I’ve never even met the family, so it’s not my place to determine their morality or the reasons for what they choose to do. I wouldn’t want someone to judge my mourning actions either.

“I suppose I just feel for them,” I admit with a sad sigh. “Losing a parent…losing a partner, it’s not something that you can so easily recover from. Even if his sons are young, they’ll remember her.”

Leon will remember her too, vividly.

You don’t forget the women who gave you children, even if your relationship isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. And according to the very unreliable rumor network, Leon and Cleo were never in love. Still, some connections are difficult to sever, especially when they’re bound by blood.

Chloe smiles sympathetically. “You’re right. They need someone to support them, and that’s why I’m going to do everything I can to be that person.”

“Chloe—”

She ignores me, continuing to prattle on happily. “It’s a perfect scenario. I need a good, rich husband who’s not a total monster, and Leon needs a wife from a good family who can help him with his little family. I’m totally a family girl.”

I want to tell her that she’s underestimating how much work slipping into a grieving family unit will be…And that maybe Ares had a point when he mentioned her aversion to children and their messes; but I can’t bring myself to dull her hope. Chloe has been talking and dreaming about a good marriage match since we turned eighteen. At twenty-three now, we’re both pushing it with our ages while remaining unwed.

Most girls from good, strong mafia lines are married from eighteen to twenty-five. Some go to college, or Empire Academy. Some are professional ballerinas, or working on degrees to help their families. Lawyers, accountants, etc. Those girls typically get a pass for marrying later on.

But Chloe and I? We don’t contribute to our families, not to the family business at least. Our roles have always been to marry, forge alliances, and make babies.

It sounds a little sad, if you’re dreaming of more. But I’ve always been content with the idea of falling in love and having a family. Being a mother has never been something that I was afraid of, but rather that I looked forward to. I wanted to have little babies and to take care of them the way my mother did. Even before she married Linus and brought us into The Gods syndicate, I was born into organized crime.

My father was Jakub Lukáč, a man who was considered a more than honorable, high-ranking officer in the Slovakian mafia that operated inside the shared territory of New York City. Unlike The Gods, my father’s family business wasn’t vast enough to hold their own territory in the US outside of neutral zones, but they had a significant history and power in Slavic territories around the world.

While The Gods also have a foothold in NYC like plenty of US mafias do, they also have their own territory in Florida. We’re below the East Coast stronghold that the Moretti Outfit operates. They’ve got one of the longest stretches of land to call their own, from parts of upstate New York, all the way down to the bottom of South Carolina. Being so close to NYC, the neutral zone, you’d think they’d be at risk for attacks more often, but they’re one of the most secure operations there is. The Morettis of the East and the Morozovs of the West are certainly the most formidable mafias in the country.

Luckily for my household, we’re friendly with both families.

“Are you sure Leon would be a good match?” I finally ask, biting my lip awkwardly. “I mean, do you think you could become a stepmom overnight? You know there are still other single Morettis, right? Ones who don’t have young children…”

“Not any of them who have a high rank like him,” she replies with a sniff. “Apollo finally got snatched up by that Bulgarian traitor’s daughter, what’s-her-name⁠—”

“You know her name is Rayna,” I cut in, giving her a disapproving frown. “And we don’t judge people for the sins of their parents. You’re just upset that she snapped up the Moretti heir before he came to market.”

“Well it was sudden and unfair,” Chloe pouts. “One day he’s single and unwilling to settle down or entertain marriage offers, the next he’s completely locked down by someone who wasn’t even on the eligibility radar for him.”

“They fell in love⁠—”