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Samuel’s hostility radiates from his every pore. I know that he hates it that a mere female such as me would be consulted by my father on such a matter. He hates it even more that my opinion could hold more weight than his own with his capo. But he doesn’t dare say any of this out loud in my father’s presence. He knows better.
I clear my throat. “I’d urge caution. We do not want a repeat of 2008.”
“Two-thousand eight?” the captain frowns belligerently.
I glance at my father, raising a brow. “Of course, I was too young to really remember it," I say, feigning naivety, "but I have heard the stories. As I understand it, the federal raids of Cuyahoga County government offices, homes, and businesses were legendary. It was one of the biggest crackdowns in pay-to-play schemes in Ohio history, am I right? Many government officials who were on the Cleveland Crime Family payroll went away for years. As did many of our people. Including members of the Cleveland-Cuyahoga Port Authority.”
My meaning is clear. If I — a mere child at the time — know about what happened in 2008, this man who is easily twice my age should be aware of the large financial and personal cost to the Mucci family caused by those unfortunate events.
“Our hold on the docks is solid again,” I say. “I’m sure my father doesn’t want to risk that. To be honest, this sounds a little good to be true. We don’t know who this person is. It feels suspicious to me that he would come to you with this offer, so soon after being appointed.”
“There’s no risk!” the captain fires back. I raise my brow again, this time at him. He would never take this tone with my father, and we both know it.
My father makes a noise low in his throat. “Everything comes with risk, Samuel,” he admonishes. “That you seek to ignore thisindicates to me that your head may not be entirely clear on this issue.”
The tension in my shoulders eases. I know my father has heard me, and that he agrees.
“It’s a lucrative deal,” the captain insists. “The cut to the Mucci crew is huge! A better percentage than you’ll get anywhere else.”
“Which is why I question what is in it for yourcontactto make us such a generous offer.” I pause, and look him directly in the eyes, not blinking:How much are you getting paid by this man under the table to bring the offer to us? How much, to be blinded by the dangers of plunging ahead without doing due diligence on who he is, and who else he might be working with? The feds, for example.
After a second, Samuel breaks eye contact with me and turns to my father, appealing once more. “I bring to you an offer I have worked for many months to bring to the table,” he insists.
“Your dedication is commendable,” Daddy says mildly.
“Yes. But the fact is, we do not know this man,” I point out.
“Iknow him,” the captain mutters, jabbing a thumb into his chest. “He’s not gonna wait for long on an answer.” His face starts to redden, sweat dampening his brow. Samuel casts one last, desperate look at my father, who gives a single curt shake of his head.
“I agree with Serafina. Our family has needed to be extra-cautious with any new business dealings at the docks. At this time, I think it’s best to wait. Please extend our thanks but say that we are not in a position to accept this offer at this time.”
The man leaves, fists clenched so hard that his knuckles are white.
When the door has closed behind him, I turn to my father. “I think you might need to have Samuel looked into. Didn’t you hear from one of your associates that he has gambling debts?”
Daddy squints at me and sighs. “Yes. I hear your point. Samuel may be desperate for money. You should have been a man, Serafina.”
I roll my eyes. “I like being a woman just fine.”
“Yes. But.” He opens an ornate wooden box sitting on his desk and removes an expensive cigar from its nest of brothers inside. He clips off the end, then picks up the heavy paperweight lighter next to the box and lights it. I try not to wrinkle my nose. Normally I don’t mind the smell, but in such an enclosed space I know the smoke will be stinging my eyes and throat in a few minutes. I don’t say anything, of course. This is Daddy’s office. His world, his rules.
“If you were a man,” he continues, “you could put your talents and your head for business to true effect. You could run the family business.”
I take a deep breath, and prepare to do battle. “There’s nothing stopping me from doing so, Daddy.”
My father continues speaking in a pensive tone, almost as if I haven’t said anything. “I am getting older, Sera. My health is failing.” He takes a puff of the cigar, and almost on cue, a rumbling cough escapes his chest. “I need someone to take over the businesses. My soldiers are good, but none of them have what it takes to be capo.” He waves at the door, indicating that he includes Samuel in that judgment. “Ah, Serafina, if only you had been a son.”
My throat constricts, even as I tell myself not to take his words personally. It’s a refrain I’ve heard many times since I was a child. My father has always loved me and my younger sister Tina unconditionally. But in our world, what really matter are sons. And my father has none.
“All it would take is for you to announce I’m taking over,” I say patiently. We’ve had this argument countless times before.“It’s your decision who heads the Mucci family and the Mucci crew.”
He blows out a plume of smoke. Turning to me, he shakes his head. “The other families would not respect your leadership.”
“I could make them respect me.” I feel my jaw jut as I say the words. I know enough about mafia life to know how to do this. I was born in it. Raised in it. I understand what garners respect in this world. “Power. Strength. I can show them that. I have the heart of a man, as you’ve always said.”
Daddytsksat me. “Using violence to force the issue will not work.”
I huff out a laugh. “Since when? I think we both know better than that. Violence, or the threat of it, is the only thing that works in our world.”
