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He eyes me in a challenge, leaning his elbows against the back of the chair opposite me. “No. Because if you don’t marry, it will be your sister.” He pauses, I’m guessing to let the threat sink in but it doesn't have the effect he wanted. “Sean has a son who still hasn’t taken a wife.”
I scoff a laugh, shake my head. There’s not a chance in hell that I would ever let that degenerate cunt within two metres of my sister. Callum Murphy is a sadistic fuck. Yeah, I may be a bit sadistic at times, as are we all but we don’t take pleasure in hurting women like he’s rumoured to. It takes a pretty fucked up person to have the kind of reputation he has, especially in our world.
What my father fails to understand is that he doesn't need to threaten me. I'll do it because The Family needs this. We need allies, and this is the only way to get them. I’ve sworn my life to The Family. I’ll die for The Family, marriage is nothing in comparison.
Francesca is the only reason I still tolerate Salvatore breathing. If it wasn't for her, he’d be in the ground and I'd be satisfied.
I won't give him the satisfaction of rattling me. “We done?”
“Yes, you can leave.” He loves to dismiss me like I’m still five. It must make him feel powerful. He finds it hard to acknowledge the fact our men’s loyalties are to me now; He won’t accept he’s too weak and old to lead. I allow it because as much as I despise him, I don't have it in me to take another parent away from Francesca. She's lost too much already.
Casimira’s scent is still all over the car. My head floats to the little noises she made and her soft body on my lap. It took every last scrap of self-control I had not to pull the car over, jump on her and devour her right on the side of the road. Not that I would have had to if my asshole of a brother thought it was funny to interrupt. With that thought fresh in my brain, I storm up the garage stairs.
I pass Fran on the sofas whilst she reads an interior design magazine, an oversized purple fleece hoodie on, her hair still in a silk wrap. “Breakfast is outside.” She calls, turning to look at me and sitting straight up, face dropping. “Where are you going with a face like that?” I ignore her knowing tone and head straight into the library where Benny is playing pool with Raff and Luca.
Luca spots me before Benny does. He simply leans against his pool cue, his eyebrows raised expectantly. Benny barely has time to look up before I’ve given him a swift uppercut to the stomach. He keels over, the wind knocked out of him. “Ow, what the fuck!” He chokes out.
“I would have stabbed you had it been me.” Luca deadpans as he leans over to take his shot. I turn on my heel and walk out of the room. I can practically hear the disappointed eye roll from Raff as he follows me out to the patio where Fran is now sitting with raised eyebrows, grey eyes expectant.
I point a finger towards her. “Don't start.”
Her and Raff share an amused look before she plucks a pastry from the middle of the table. “I’m not getting involved in whatever this is. Have fun.” She laughs as she skips off.
I take a seat at the glass table pour myself a coffee and load my plate up. Raff sits directly across from me, eyeing me intently. He has something to say but after the events that transpired last night and the fact I've had no sleep, I’m in no mood for games. “What?” I snap.
He leans back in his chair, interlacing his fingers. “You don’t want to hear what I’ve gotta say right now.”
“No, but it's never stopped you before so spit it out.“ I say sharply as I spear some bacon with my fork.
He steeples his fingers and leans forward towards me. “Look, I just don’t want you to get distracted. We've got a lot on at the moment and if last night wasn’t a first-hand example of what’s riding on this deal with the Irish then I don’t know what is. We need them, Enzo. We have waited long enough to deal with the Russians, we can't afford to wait any longer. They are going to retaliate soon enough after what we pulled last night.” His dark eyes burn with intensity. Raff’s always been the sensible one. He's got an old head on young shoulders. Twenty five but mentally he's about sixty. He’d be a good Caporegime if he was more ruthless. Don’t get me wrong you, don’t want to fuck with Raff. He’s got a temper like a firework and he’s a dirty fighter, unusually quick for someone of his size but he’s got our Ma’s soft heart deep down.
“Have I ever failed us?” I stand up from the table take my plate and pat him on the shoulder with my free hand. I don’t wait for his response. I know I’ve never let any of them down and I never will. I led us when my mother died and my father receded into himself. I fought for total control when two of the five families took my father’s absence as their chance to steal our territory. I’ve dealt with them and I'll deal with this like every problem we have. I’ll never let anyone hurt my family again. Blood is everything.
15
Casimira
Present-day
Manhattan, New York City
The sunlight streaming in through my open curtains unceremoniously wakes me up. I groan and reach a hand over to pull them closed, keeping my eyes tightly shut so I might go back to sleep. Where I should feel more of my mattress I feel empty space, I tumble out of my bed and land in an undignified heap on the floor. I lay there for a second blinking at my ceiling, what time did I even get home? What time is it now? I root through the stuff on my floor until I find my phone and see it’s nearly 4 p.m. Fucking hell. After dragging myself up I catch myself in the mirror and let out a laugh. I didn’t even get undressed last night. My hair is crusty with dried blood and I’m a sweaty mess. I pull myself out of my room to the bathroom opposite.
I can hear Hannah and James chatting away in the lounge but I better clean myself up first before I give Hannah a heart attack. I turn the shower on, letting the water wash the crusty blood out of my hair even though my cut is stinging like someone’s rubbed salt in it.
Yesterday was crazy. I know seeing Enzo again is a bad idea, if anything’s a red flag, getting shot at on a first date has got to be the biggest one. James told me he was in the mafia but I didn’t anticipate something like that to happen. Don’t get me wrong, I've seen a lot in my life. I grew up around some messed up people and it's not hard to find yourself in some sticky situations where I come from but nothing like that. I didn't think I was naïve but I suppose when it comes to stuff like this I must be.
I may need some professional help with the feelings I’m having about it though. Danger has always excited me and I’ve always gone for the scary ones. So yesterday was a turn on if anything, and I know that is not a normal way of thinking. God help me. I’m a walking disaster.
Once I've showered and done my twelve-step skincare routine that Hannah insists is what keeps her skin so clear (I’m still on the fence - seems like a lot of effort and money when a moisturiser would probably accomplish the same results.) I shove some comfies on to make myself some food.
“Here she is, the dirty stop out herself,” James says, grinning as I appear in the lounge/kitchen. My eyes instantly find the rather large gift basket sitting on the island.
I flip him off and don’t dignify him with an answer as I start examining what's inside the basket. Nice jams, fancy pastries from the patisserie down the street. Three very expensive bottles of wine and a note with ‘Moretti properties’ embossed in gold foil across the top of the card.
“What is this?” I hold the card up as Hannah comes out of their bedroom, mid-fold of a t-shirt.
“So weird.” She says, placing the t-shirt on the arm of the sofa and sitting down. “I got a call from the property management company apologising profusely about the broken door. Sent someone over last night to fix it and left that outside the flat door.” She makes a confused face and I lean a hip against the counter, shake my head and let out a scoff.
