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I feel a shiver down my spine and recall the scary huddles my father used to get in with his friends. Back in the day, they’d stand in a tight circle in the back of our kitchen and put the radio on extremely loud—music blaring with enough force to rattle the windows—and they’d talk quietly with each other, almost whispering in each other’s ears. Mom would pull me away and say something like, oh, your father just needs to discuss some construction business with his friends, but I already knew they were talking about something they didn’t want anyone to hear. I figured it had to do with their work, and I was right, but I didn’t understand the nature of that work yet.
Now I understand it better. They were talking mafia business, in our house, right in front of us. They had the good sense to drown it out with the radio, but still, they were discussing drugs and extortion and killing right there in my home. The idea’s sickening.
“I’ve never done a family dinner like this before,” I confess as I decide to go with the necklace. It’s a simple gold cross that sits just above my cleavage, and I can already imagine Fynn’s eye being drawn to it. I’m in a short floral dress, appropriate but just revealing enough—showing off my full figure and highlighting my eyes.
“Did you grow up with cousins and stuff?”
“Not really. My mom was an only child and most of her cousins and whatever live out of state. Dad ran off when I was ten and I haven’t talked to him since. I guess it’s been fifteen years. It’s just been my mom and me for a long time.”
“Sounds like it must’ve been hard.” Her voice is quiet and soft.
I turn to her and smile. No need for her to feel bad. Maybe the others, but Karah’s the nicest of them all and I don’t want her to pity me just because I grew up with nothing while she grew up with all this.
And anyway, if I’m honest with myself, I know there are tradeoffs. Yes, Karah’s rich and pampered, but her life and the lives of everyone she loves are constantly in danger. Low-level violence throbs in the background of everything they do, and at any moment it could explode and ruin them all. Mom and I were poor, but at least we were safe. Trauma is infused in everything these people do.
“It wasn’t so bad. Mom and I are really close now and I guess you just get used to whatever your life is like, right? I barely thought about having more family growing up, I was just focused on taking care of the family I had.”
She smiles and hops off the bed. “That’s inspiring, you know? I should try focusing on the family I have instead of picturing what might be.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Oh, you know. More babies with Nico.” She rolls her eyes and grins at me. “He’s always pushing for a huge family.”
“And what do you want?”
“I want a huge family too, but I want him to work for it.” I laugh as she slips her hand through my arm and steers me away from the mirror. “Come on, beautiful, let’s go see Casso right now and get it over with. That way, you don’t have to be nervous for dinner.”
“That’s not a bad idea, but are you sure he won’t mind?”
“Not at all, he’s just sitting down in his office with Nico and Fynn talking strategy. They’re all probably sick of it anyway. They’ll welcome the distraction of a pretty girl. Except for Nico and Casso, since they’re loyal married men, but Fynn might do a little staring. That’s why you got all sexed up, right?”
I blush a little. “Fynn doesn’t think about me that way.” Which is a total lie: I can still feel his fingers between my legs and his palm against my ass.
“I think you’re wrong about that, but who knows? Maybe seeing you in this dress will change this mind.”
“Do you think it’s inappropriate? I want to try to keep things professional. I have something more—”
“No, you look great, relax. Seriously, I’m jealous, that’s how good you look.”
“Thanks,” I say, grinning stupidly. I’m only wearing light makeup with my hair down and slightly curly, and I don’t really feel all that pretty, but Karah’s compliments are doing a lot for my confidence. I almost feel good when we head out into the hall, down the back flight of stairs and over to the far side of the villa where Casso keeps his office.
Karah knocks twice and waits. The door’s big and wooden with brass detailing around the edges. The filigree curls and twists, making snakes and grass and apples. I wouldn’t have taken Casso and the Bruno family for religious, but the imagery is pretty obviously from the Garden of Eden. I don’t have time to think much more about it before the door opens and Nico’s there, smiling out at his wife.
