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“True that,” he retorted. The man wouldn’t be caught dead off the dirty city streets. The one and only time he visited me, he fidgeted the entire time, desperate to get back to where the action was. And action and speed were always the endgame for my little brother. He was an adrenaline junkie, racing bikes and cars. Hell, the madman even piloted planes for the thrill of it.
Alex turned to me. “Thank you, Luca.”
I nodded, suppressing a chuckle. This thank you on the part of the Lupul was clearly Nina’s doing. She was “working” on Alex’s interpersonal communication skills, or so she told me last Sunday, during dinner at Mama’s house. A tradition I only attended for my mother’s sake.
“What the hell do you do all day alone in that big, empty house?” Nicu asked.
“I do what I do,” I answered evasively. I wasn’t about to tell them that I mostly took care of my flowers in my garden. I wasn’t going to tell them that, while I had a little army of gardeners at my fingertips, I stripped off my T-shirt, grabbed a handful of tools, got down on my hands and knees and pulled weeds to relax. These fuckers would eat me alive, but gardening was one of the few activities that gave me peace.
“You’re doing it again,” he called me out. “Avoiding the answer.”
“I’m alone is what I do. I’m a motherfucking loner, and I like peace and quiet. Besides work, I play video games, I stream, and read. Work in the garden, work out in my gym, and take swims in my huge-ass swimming pool.” I shrugged. “No, I don’t have a family holed up in there or a woman tied to my bedpost in an underground dungeon. Don’t worry, I’m not a mass murderer.”
With a perplexed expression on his face, he asked, “Don’t you get lonely? Bored? You’re not that old yet.”
My brother never did understand me. He was a mama’s boy and stayed close to our family home.
“Not in the least. I work hard, and I’m at the club every weekend, checking on things. Going to Westchester, I’m away from the noise and bustle of the city. It’s the closest to being at peace. No one’s watching over my shoulder. I don’t answer to anyone or contend with bullshit. I’m not neighborly, so I don’t have anyone stopping by. No one knows my name when I walk down the street. And that’s how I like it. Anonymous and fucking free. It’s the exact opposite of growing up at home.”
At home, I’d constantly get reprimanded and smacked around.
Alex’s eyes darted away in shame. I sighed. Our father, whom everyone called Tata except me, kept what he did to me a secret. If he was too obvious, then Alex would’ve been forced to take sides, and the honorable protector in him would’ve had to defend me. Alex’s problem was that, until recently, he worshipped our father and, in his drive to be perfect, strove to match him.
Me, on the other hand? At a young age, I learned that when a powerful, respected man chose to divert from the path of righteousness, people forgave him his indiscretions. Our family was an organization. Duty, sacrifice, and the chain of command were essential to making our little world tick. Since we lived in the shadows, in the underbelly of the rest of the world, everyone had to follow the rules. It was the underpinning that held everything together. In a strict world like ours, where my father’s word was law, my personality became a thorn in his side.
Eyeing Alex critically, I always wondered how much he knew exactly. We’d never spoken about it and I was too prideful to divulge the extent of the abuse I had undergone. Shaking my head, I figured he’d known enough. While I could forgive him for not protecting me, I struggled with his idolization of my father. Which was why the discovery of his great betrayal was a godsend. Alex had been ready to sacrifice his happiness with Nina to fulfill his duty of marrying a mafie girl. But for once in his life, my oldest brother granted himself the reprieve of not being perfect, turned away from what he considered his duty, and married the love of his life.
Changing the subject and moving our meeting along so I could get the hell out of the city and return to my oasis in Westchester, I said, “So…let’s talk L.A. Now that the setup in Chicago is going well, I think we should focus on L.A. What about meeting with the ruling clan there, the Hagi clan? They’re a small outfit.”
Alex’s gaze swung toward me and hardened. “Oh, hell no. Don’t even think about it, Luca. I’m guessing you want to move out of New York. Get that idea out of your head right now for no other reason than it would break Mama’s heart.”
“She’ll be fine,” I assured impatiently. “I’m the one traveling there every other week. I know the operation better than anyone.”
“Even if I gave you the position of underboss, don’t think you could keep it while being unmarried,” he argued.
I dropped back into my seat on one of the two white couches facing each other in my spacious living room. Picking up the Turkish coffee on the large coffee table between the couches, I mused that Nina’s so-called “work in progress” was purely a surface-level thing. Not that I was surprised. You didn’t become sef by being soft. While I had worked my ass off to open a base in Chicago and tentatively put feelers out for Los Angeles, I hadn’t agreed to marry the Popescu girl, and this was my payback.
Well fuck. I stared out the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park as disappointment clawed at my chest. While I made it work in New York as best I could, my dream was to move away somewhere new. I’d be more of my own boss and get to make a mark. Once we opened up an outfit in Cali, I was hoping to pivot there.
“And when do you think that’s something you can entertain?” I was pushing. I knew I was, but I had to fight for what I wanted. No one was going to hand it to me on a silver platter. Not me and not in this family.
“When I deem that it’s the best decision for the family,” he replied matter-of-factly. Family always came first, and until I showed him that I learned my lesson on sacrifice, I was stuck in this noisy, crowded metropolis. I gazed out the penthouse window into the bright blue New York sky. It reminded me of the blue ocean of Laguna Beach. I was transported back to the first time I’d visited. The feel of the warm, soft breeze coming off the water. The pristine golden sand sifting between my toes as I looked out on the crashing waves, surfers skating over the tops like large birds in flight.
I would’ve bought a place at the beach in the Hamptons instead of in a suburban neighborhood in Westchester, but I grew up hearing stories of my mother going to Constanta, the beach resort on the shores of the Black Sea, every summer. If I’d bought a place at the beach, my family would come crashing in on the weekends and throughout the summer months. The beach is where I dreamed of having a place, but my family intruding on my private alone time had to be avoided at all costs. A regular old American family might rent a place. That wasn’t how it worked with my family. An open-door policy was an unspoken assumption. A shudder ran through me at that thought. It was bad enough that I shared a floor with Nicu, while Alex was one tower over in the same building.
Alex’s eyes on me turned brittle. “You know I don’t like to get into your business, but it won’t happen before you’re married.”
After mentioning it for the third time, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. My gaze zeroed in on him. “You’re serious?”
He held up his hand. “It’s not the first time I’ve mentioned it and I don’t do anything without a purpose. But to clear up any misunderstanding, yes, I’m damn serious. You need to mature and demonstrate that I can trust you. That you’re not going to negate every request I make of you like an unruly adolescent, especially if you’re living away from me and in charge of your own territory. Prove to me that you’re willing to do what needs to be done, regardless of how you feel about it or whether you feel like it,” he ended in air quotes.
I rose to my feet and thundered, “Prove myself to you? Prove myself?” My tone dropped to a dangerous level. “Haven’t I proven myself?” He knew exactly what I was referring to.
“Settle down, Luca,” Tatum interjected, grabbing my wrist, and tugging me down.
Guilt flickered over Alex’s face before it settled into firm, determined lines. “If you want to have your own territory, you need to be married. Your men won’t take you seriously if you haven’t settled down. At least an engagement before you leave. That’s about as much leeway I could give you.”
“He’s right, Luca,” parroted Tatum. “At your age, a man should be married. He’ll be considered more mature, and therefore, more trustworthy. Our soldiers would need to have complete faith in you.”
My hands trembled slightly from the energy it took to hold back the desire to pummel my brother. While his request might seem reasonable, I instinctually rebelled against any kind of imposition or condition made on me. I balled my hands into fists to get a grip on my fury. This reminded me so much of my father’s ultimatums that I’d challenged, which led to subsequent punishments. It took me a few moments to talk myself off the ledge. Inhaling sharply through my nostrils, I woodenly sat back down and took a sip of my coffee.
I couldn’t say anything for fear of what would come out of my mouth. Clenching my jaws tightly, I focused on my breathing. I had a goal in mind, and I always achieved my goals. My father’s punishment had given me practice in endurance for the long game. I had no intention of getting married for this, but until I came up with an alternative plan, I’d keep my mouth shut. There was a time to fight and a time to plot. A fight was brewing, but until then, I’d begin with plotting.
