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It’s true, there are always beautiful, stunning women at the club who are only too willing to spend the night with one of the Medici brothers. It’s like a game to them, it’s about status and wealth, to see which Medici brother they can bag as a husband.
Only I don’t roll like that. I have to have a connection with a woman. I need to feel something.
Even at thirty, I am still the same as I was in my twenties.
I should be happy.
We have multiple streams of income from dozens of businesses, and I get to work with my family. Even if Angelo does ride our asses, at least it’s not some other asshole. I’m lucky, I have a job I thoroughly enjoy.
My mother and our younger sister, Valentina, live nearby, so I see them often. Ma loves nothing more in life than feeding her children. She’s the epitome of an Italian mother and the strongest woman I know. After papa was killed when I was young, she had to do everything on her own. I have no greater respect for anyone than for my ma.
Angelo rules this city now. Some say with an iron fist. Others would say he’s fair. But I know that papa would be proud of him and his achievements. He'd be proud of all of us.
Sure, we’re mafioso. The Medici name is feared by those involved in organized crime, but we fear nobody.
Angelo has spent his entire life building the foundations of the Familia, working under our uncle Mario.
Angelo has been instrumental in cleaning this city up, much to the astonishment of many. He might keep a tight reign over all the illegal activity in Boston, but even he draws the line at women and children. The Brazilian mobster, Rombaldi, is high on our hitlist for running an alleged human trafficking ring. One Angelo is closing in on. He does not allow underage prostitution or condone any involvement with children.
It’s a sore subject in our family since that’s how our parents met; my father saved ma from an illegal prostitution ring when she was unknowingly sold to work in an American brothel.
The Medicis have been called anti-heroes occasionally, but Angelo won’t hear of it. He thinks it makes us sound weak, which isn’t even in his vocabulary.
You cross this family, you die. It’s as simple as that.
I also feel like I’ve found my niche at work. I know I drive a great real estate deal. I’m good at selling, but a part of me often feels lost. Like I don’t know my place in the world. I want someone to share it with.
I can’t say this to any of them, of course. They would think I was losing my mind, as well as my balls. One of Fynn’s favorite sayings is, ‘This is what everyone wants.’
He would never understand why someone wouldn’t want this life, even if it does involve danger. He lives for it. I’ve grown into it, but it wasn’t always my choice.
I do it for Angelo, for ma, my sister, and for my brothers. I can’t fail them.
We have it all.
Power.
Wealth.
Luxury homes.
Women throwing themselves at our feet.
But there are times that I ask myself if it’s enough, any of it.
When you’ve acquired all of that, then what?
None of us are married. None of us have children.
Life is just one steady stream of extreme decisions. The money keeps pouring in, and we keep lapping it up.
I’m not even complaining about it. I just wonder if it’s ever gonna happen for me, is there more to life than just work?
I glance at my brother as he sits back lazily in the booth seat, sipping a strong, black coffee. It’s too early, even for him, to be drinking.
“Are you staying for poker night?” he asks.
This is when my brothers and I all get together with Angelo’s best friend, Enzo, who runs our security business.
