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“And Gianna found him?” I close my eyes, not wanting to imagine how awful that must have been for her. Gianna and her father were always close, closer than most mafia fathers are with their daughters. He didn’t believe in the old ways of raising daughters, keeping them ignorant and suitable only for marriage at a young age, ignoring them in favor of sons. Gianna was his only natural child, and he loved her deeply. “How is she?”
Luca shakes his head. “From what I hear, not well. The funeral is tomorrow. I received a request to release you to go to Chicago, both for the funeral and to meet with the Family to discuss Don Mancini’s successor. I expect that will have something to do with the girl’s marriage as well, whether it was already arranged or still needs to be. Yesterday was her eighteenth birthday, apparently,” he adds with a sigh. “Not the way it should have gone.”
“I know why they want me back.” I grit my teeth, thinking of the last conversation that Giacomo and I had before I left Chicago for three years without speaking to him. Gianna had been fifteen then, with a gaze that wandered towards me far too often for my own comfort. “Giacomo will have put it in his will that he wants me to be his successor.”
“Really.” Luca looks at me curiously. “Was that the nature of your falling out? I would have thought he would want it to go to his daughter’s future husband. I don’t mean this as an insult, Alessio; I know he thought of you as a son—but none of his blood actually flows through your veins. You have his name, and that’s all. At least Gianna’s children would be half-Mancini in truth.”
I frown. “He wanted me to marry her when she was older. Twenty-one at least, he said. The best way of both ensuring the son of his heart led the family after his passing and that the heirs would be the family of his blood. I refused, of course.”
“Of course,” Luca echoes, but I can tell from his tone that he doesn’t understand. “You refused to be betrothed to Gianna?”
“She’s my stepsister.” I stare at Luca. “And half my age.”
“But you weren’t raised together. You left three years after she was born. You’re hardly siblings in anything but the most legal sense. Certainly not blood-related, or even with the awkwardness of having grown up together. And she is of age now.”
“Exactly Giacomo’s argument. And my answer remains the same. Absolutely not. I will not lead the Mancini mafia—not only because I have no right to, but because I have nodesireto be don. And I will not marry Gianna. It’s not right. Besides—”
I don’t finish the sentence. The argument I’ve already made against it is strong enough, I reason. Gianna is too young, even if she’s technically old enough to marry, and she’s legally my stepsister. It doesn’t matter that I have reasons of my own why I don’t intend to marry her, whether Giacomo expressedthatdesire in his will or not. Reasons that I plan to keep to myself, rather than discuss them with my boss.
“They expect you in Chicago, one way or another,” Luca says. “Tomorrow.”
“And I’ll go.” I let out a long breath. “There’s no saying no to the Family, of course. I’ll help set affairs straight, and then I’ll come back here—where I’m perfectly content working as your right hand, and helpingyoulead.”
“Which you’ve done exceptionally well at.” Luca frowns. “I don’t think they’ll be as quick to allow you to refuse as you think, though. Whatever Giacomo has asked, they’ll feel duty-bound to adhere to. And they may have ideas of their own.”
“I’m certain they will.” My jaw tightens. “But I have my own opinions, and I intend to stick to them.”
“Good luck,” Luca says, looking at me from across the desk. “Whatever your decision, I’ll support it.”
I’m grateful for his support, of course. But as I leave the office and head back to my own apartment—a high-level, expansive loft in one of New York’s high-rises—I have every intention of sticking to the choices I’ve already made.
My life, as it is, is all I could want as far as I’m concerned. I have influence and money while being able to remain in the background as Luca’s consigliere—a position he’s often mentioned elevating me from to underboss, but even that, I’m unsure if I want. I’ve never been power-hungry, at least not in my own estimation, and I’ve seen what comes of holding such a position in this world. I’ve seen the dangers posed to not only Luca and his allies, but to their families. I don’t escape danger entirely in my position—that would be impossible, but the barrel of the gun has never been aimed directly at me.
It’s not only the danger, either—but the responsibility. There are so many people who rely on Luca, and on others like him. Every choice he makes matters. I’m not sure that’s what I want for my life. I’ve never aspired to rise higher than I already have.
Now the Family will want me to. I have no doubt of that. And more than that, they’ll want me to make good on Giacomo’s desires—not only for me to inherit, but for me to marry Gianna. And that, I absolutely will not do.
I toss my keys into the ceramic dish on the antique wooden table just inside my door, shrugging off my suit coat and reaching up to loosen my tie. I’d planned to go out and have a drink, but now I’m not so sure that staying in doesn’t sound like a better idea, not when I have to go to Chicago in the morning. I reach for my phone as I walk into my living room, the view of New York in the early evening spreading out beyond the huge windows that overlook it, and thumb through the list of numbers I have—all girls who would be more than happy to come over with a moment’s notice.
That sounds like a good night.The peace of my own home—the last night like that for a while, depending on how long it takes to iron things out in Chicago—a glass of good wine, and a girl on her knees sucking my cock while I enjoy it, letting me run my fingers through her hair and tell hergoodgirlwhile she makes me come, and takes my mind off of everything plaguing it now.
I sink down onto the black leather couch, watching the lights of the city flicker to life, and feel myself stir with anticipation as I type out the text. In thirty minutes, this evening will have gotten much better.
And when I finish up what needs doing in Chicago, I can come right back here, to that same ideal life that I’ve created for myself.
It’ll just take a few days, that’s all.
—
The next morning, as I board the jet that Luca let me borrow for a more peaceful flight, I’m less certain. I went to bed with my sheets smelling of vanilla perfume, my cock well-sucked, having enjoyed a second round as well with the girl who had come over—a pretty red-haired lounge singer I met downtown named Siobhan, with a melodic voice that sounds even prettier when she comes. She’d let me tie her to the bed and tease her with my tongue until she was begging to come, giving me something much more pleasurable to focus on than what I’d be doing in the morning, and then come three times over when I flipped her over and fucked her as hard as I pleased. I should feel satisfied and relaxed today, having had both good sex and sound sleep the night before. Still, I feel tense and unsettled instead, and as I sink into my seat on the jet, I can’t shake the feeling.
It’s not made any better when I arrive in Chicago, a few hours before the funeral. I send my bags with a driver to drop off at my hotel—I have no intentions of staying in Giacomo’s home, even though I know it’s what he’d have asked me to do—and head straight for the church, feeling that knot of anxiety in my gut tighten mile by mile, until I’m stepping inside.
The smell of wood and incense that hits me the moment I walk in the doors brings back a flood of memories—everything from my own confirmation not long after Giacomo and Rosa adopted me, to Sunday mornings sitting here in the hard wood pews, to Gianna’s baptism when she was small. I’d hoped it would be much longer before I returned here for a funeral.
The church is still mostly empty—most of the mourners haven’t arrived yet. The coffin is just above the stairs—dark wood and brass, elegant and simple. I have no doubt that Giacomo left instructions as to what he would want, just as I’m sure that he left instructions about everything else, as well.
Instructions that the Family will want me to carry out.
