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We walk into my parents’ house, and the noise from chatter leads us straight to where I assumed they’d be, all sitting around the great room in the various chairs, sofas, and couches. The scent of my childhood home lingers in the air, always fresh-baked bread and lavish floral arrangements, as I walk hand in hand with Giana into the room, all eyes focused on us.
I may have the blessing of my parents, because they are a rarity in this world, but I’m afraid we’ll have to work to win the rest of the family over.
I start where I think it’ll be easiest, and we walk over to Leonardo Gallo, our family’s consigliere, the designated advisor of the family; the one we go to when we need help dissolving feuds or solving disputes between ourselves or others. He’s the most levelheaded man I know, and I think he’ll be the easiest to win over.
We approach, and I can tell Giana is nervous as her hand tenses in mine. Most people are intimidated around Leo. He’s a brute, spends hours in the gym each day, and is thick as a damn slab of premium meat. His heart is good, though, and it’s another reason his job is what it is; he wants to solve problems before they get out of hand. He isn’t quick to grab for his holster, and he keeps his wits about him.
“Mr. Gallo,” I say, using a formality to greet my long-time friend just to gauge where I am on his shit list.
Leo grabs my hand and gives it a firm shake before pulling me in for a side pat.
“You fucking little shit, DeSantis,” he says as a snarky smile crosses his face. “You got a death wish, don’t you?” He looks over to Giana, and his features soften slightly. “Care to introduce me to your woman?”
Giana unclasps her hand from my own and reaches out to meet his halfway. I wrap my arm around her waist as the two exchange pleasantries, and Giana tells him it’s nice to meet him.
“Leo here is the family consigliere,” I tell her, trying to read her expression and find out if her family let her in on the ranks of made men.
Giana nods and does the little head-tilt thing she does that’s cute as fuck.
“I’m not incredibly well versed when it comes to the inner dealings of the families, but I do know some things—namely titles and ranks and all that. You’ve got quite the job on your hands, Mr. Gallo.” Giana looks from Leo to me and settles into my side.
“Somebody has to make sure all these assholes don’t get themselves killed.” He chuckles and excuses himself when my mother calls him to help her with something just as I realize we’re about to face one of the few people I think could really screw things up for us.
My brother, Lorenzo, walks up, liquor wafting off him like he’s been drinking for days straight. Maybe that’s why he didn’t show up to the wedding the day I got Giana out of there. He didn’t bother to show up last night either. Fucking drunk.
Antonio is right behind him, and I’d rather introduce Giana to my son than to my brother, who no doubt is going to fuck this up.
“So this is the girl you got us into another fucking war over,” he says, slurring his words as he stumbles forward. Antonio yanks him back up by his collar, but Lorenzo shrugs him off. “I’m fucking fine. Knock it off, little DeSantis.”
It’s a nickname my son fucking despises.
“Come on, Uncle Renzo. Let’s get you some water.”
“Is this your son?” Giana asks, a smile lighting up her beautiful face.
“Oh, we’re all a big fucking happy family, just accepting the Amato trash for what it is, getting the fucking cartel’s leftovers and—”
My fist connects with Lorenzo’s jaw with so much force that a loudcrack!reverberates in the air. Blood flies from his mouth as his head knocks to the side, and I grab him by the collar and haul him up against the nearest wall.
“You will not talk about her like that. Do you fucking understand me? You fucking worthless fuck. Can’t even stay sober long enough to attend family fucking dinner. You’re more of a liability than she will ever be. You ever say another goddamn word about her, about us, I will make you pay. I don’t give a fuck if you’re my blood. You haven’t been my brother in a long, long time.”
I squeeze the collar of his shirt, and it constricts his airway, causing him to try to break free of my grasp. Antonio tries to reason with me, but he’s all background noise.
“Have I made myself clear, little DeSantis?” I throw the nickname out at him in the same condescending way he does to Antonio and wait for him to nod before shoving him into the wall hard and letting him slide to the ground.
“Anybody got anything else they wanna get off their chests?” I ask the room, holding my arms out as I walk to the center underneath the grand chandelier and baiting anybody who has a thing to say to me about Giana.
Antonio walks Giana out of the great room, and when no one else objects, I leave the rest of them to deal with my shithead of a brother and follow my girl out of the room.
What a total dick.
I mean, I’m not naïve enough to believe there wouldn’t be objections amongst the DeSantis Family. I’m an outsider, and even worse, I’m an Amato. An enemy. I know I’ll have to work for it if I want to give this thing between Dante and me a real shot.
And I do.
But Lorenzo is a jackass, and I’m pretty sure he was heavily intoxicated on top of being a dick. But to see the way Dante all but annihilated him in front of his entire family both shocked me and made my affection for him grow even more.
And I’m pretty positive my panties are soaked.
