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CHAPTER 1
Santa Adelina, Madre di Dio, prega per noi peccatori, adesso e nell’ora della nostra morte.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.
— the words every Made Man recites upon a death.
ANNUNCIATA
“Okay, I’ve finished my math now,” I said, as I slammed my book shut and leaned back in my chair at the antique table, stretching out my arms. It should have taken at least an hour to complete my assignment for college; however, as usual, it had only taken me a fraction of the time.
I was glad I’d finished before Ma got home. She thought I was too serious—getting good grades and doing my homework on time were not traits looked for in a good Mafia daughter. I knew I was a bit of a nerd, but I loved math and figures.
“So, Wilbur, that means I’ve got time to give you a tummy rub.”
The fluffy white cat gracefully leaped up onto the seat of the chair next to me and rolled onto his back, curling his front paws under his chin while he gazed at me with his large blue eyes.
I was in the dining room of my papà’s Staten Island mansion. Set high on a hill with the bright lights of the city glittering across the water, my papà had sought to provide us with the most opulent home.
Its shimmering chandeliers and gleaming marble columns shone fiercely in an attempt to distract us from the glare of the silver bullets that my family shot from their guns. Because my papà, brothers, uncles, and cousins ran the Imperiosi Mafia in New York, and each one of them could give Hades a run for his money when it came to ruling the underworld.
“You really are a handsome boy,” I cooed to Wilbur, as I ran my hand over his soft fur.
“If you keep talking to him like that, Anni, everyone’s going to think that you’re a crazy-cat-lady,” said my older sister, Fidella, as she walked into the dining room. She carried a dish she had borrowed from Ma yesterday. Even though she was married, she and her family still spent a lot of time at our place.
I grinned at her. “I have to do something to pass the time.”
“Haven’t you got your online Cat Club today?” This was a club I’d joined where cat owners could talk about cat-related matters. In reality, it was just an excuse to talk about how wonderful our pets were to like-minded people who had a similar cat obsession.
“It’s not for a little while yet. And it’s not as if I have a wide circle of friends I can spend time with. You know what it’s like, Fee. Our social circle is pretty much confined to Mafia families. Even at school, the non-Mafia kids avoid us ‘connected’ kids.”
Since Wilbur was next to me, I reached to the sideboard for the box of ribbons I kept there. “Which color ribbon would you like today?” I asked him. We’d gotten Wilbur as our family pet when I’d been much younger, and I’d loved dressing him up by tying a new ribbon onto his collar each day, and then the habit just stuck.
Wilbur gazed at the box with serious eyes before snagging a pink ribbon with his claw.
“Okay, pink it is.”
“You know, don’t you, that Wilbur looks like a girl when you put a pink ribbon on his collar?” Fidella commented. “It makes him look like that cat,Marie, from theAristocatsmovie.”
“I know, but I reckon he looks handsome in whatever he wears.”
Just then, Wilbur decided it was time for a nap and stalked over to the dark green chaise longue, curling up on the end in a patch of sun.
As I watched him, I ran my hand over my blonde bob.
Fidella eyed me critically. “Jeez, Anni, Ma’s going to have a coronary when she sees that your hair is even shorter.”
“The stylist only took off two centimeters exactly when I had it trimmed earlier today.”
“Ma still hates your short hair. She thinks it’s going to massively affect your marriage prospects.”
I divided my hair into two and started to put each side into a French braid. “I think she’s getting used to it. She’s definitely complaining less about it. I mean, I did cut it over two years ago. I didn’t think she would hold a grudge against it for quite so long.”
My hair skimmed the top of my shoulders, so it wasn’t super short, but it was much shorter than most Mafia girls and women wore their hair.
Our institution was traditional, and many still believed that the main role of women was to look attractive for their husbands. The traditionalists held a non-negotiable view that females should wear elegant dresses, high heels, a full face of make-up, and have long swishy hair.
I pulled a hair tie around my first completed braid. “Anyway, Ma knows I’ve always wanted to study math at college. And since Papà is allowing me to do that, there’s absolutely no way that I’m going to be a Mafia wife at the age of twenty. I’ve got a brain and I’m going to use it.”
