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My sister’s emotions are about as constant as a weather vane. I suppress a laugh. “Well, that’s not going to happen. I’m not interested in Giovanni Vincenzi, Tina. He’s a man whore. I’d never be able to respect him.”
Tina shrugs. “All the guys we know in the family are man whores, probably. And who knows? Maybe Giovanni would change if he was married.”
I snort. “Not that much. Leopards can’t change their spots.”
“You never know, Sera,” she admonishes. “Weirder things have happened. Look how Daddy is so faithful to Mamma. Marriage changes people.”
A knockon the door interrupts us. Seconds later, it opens, and speak of the Devil, my mother’s head pops in through the crack. Her platinum blond hair is done up in an elaborate style of curls piled on top of her head. Twin chandeliers of diamond earrings drip from her lobes, the pair of them costing more than most people spend on a car.
“Girls,” she hisses at us. “You should already be downstairs by now. Hurry up!”
Tina shoots me an eye-roll. I smother a chuckle. “In a minute, Mamma,” I say. She gives us an impatient little huff and closes the door.
I grab the jewelry I picked out to wear: the diamond studs my father gave me for my sixteenth birthday, then the matching bracelet that was a Christmas present the following year. I’ve never been one who likes heavy, flashy jewelry. I prefer a more minimalist look. That already puts me at odds with most of the other girls and women of the Cleveland mafia family. Givingmyself a critical glance in the mirror, I exhale and reach for my sister’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
4
SERA
Tina and I step out of my room into the hallway, following the long corridor out toward the staircase. The Mucci mansion was commissioned by my father when he and my mother were first married. Its design is inspired by the Italian palazzos of the nineteenth century, or so I’m told. From the outside, it’s a sprawling brick, stone, and stucco structure, surrounded by a two-acre park.
Standing here at the top of the double staircase, I can glimpse through the enormous arched window of the front entryway the long and winding courtyard driveway, filled with the Maseratis, Jaguars, BMWs, and Bentleys of our guests. Below it, the grand foyer that leads to the front door is empty except for a uniformed servant. We can hear the buzzing crowd that is already here somewhere deeper in the house.
I thought tonight was supposed to be a simple dinner with the heads of the three families and their male progeny, but I see my mistake. I shouldn’t be surprised. My father has always been one to kill several birds with one stone. There’s never an opportunity not taken to show off our sprawling wealth — even among people who already know our position in the world.
Tina gives my hand a final squeeze, and we start down one side of the marble staircase together. Down in the foyer, we turn toward the large living room that’s the source of the buzzing conversation. There’s no way to avoid making a grand entrance by walking through the archway, which of course is by design. I swallow down my nerves and square my shoulders, then stride forward, taking some comfort in the fact that Tina is right there with me. No sooner are we through the arch than my mother’s eyes and entire body turn toward me. A second later my father’s follows suit, and then as if on cue, all of the guests turn in unison.
“Serafina,” my mother crows, sashaying toward me with her arms stretched wide. She embraces me ostentatiously, in a move designed to ensure that everyone in the room is looking at me, as if they weren’t already. Tina, mostly forgotten already, fades into the background, which I know she’s happy about. Tina has always preferred to be the younger sister going her own way. She has benefited by being the youngest by having more freedom and more parental indulgence since practically the moment she was born. It’s a position I envy, but I don’t blame her for it. It’s not her fault that our roles are different in the family.
“Come, Serafina,” Mamma says to me, low enough for only me to hear. “You are looking so lovely tonight. It’s time to present you. You will make a wonderful impression.” She pauses. “I assume you’ll be on your best behavior. You know how important this night is.”
“Do all of the D’Agostino, Vincenzi and Bianchi sons know why they’re here tonight?” I ask, a tinge of bitterness in my voice. “Do they know this is nothing more than a high-class meat market?”
My mother clucks her tongue at me. “Sera, don’t be silly. This is not a meat market. This is just the way of things. Anyhandsome, single young man of a prominent family must be in want of a wife.”
“A brood mare, you mean,” I shoot back.
“Stop this, Serafina,” my mother hisses through her painted-on smile. “This is the way things are for us. You know this. It’s better for thefamiglia, for all of us. A woman settles a man down. And better for us to marry among ourselves, than to bring in outsiders who wouldn’t understand.”
Yes. Better to keep all of the secrets among ourselves.
She turns to the crowd, beaming from ear to ear. My mother has always wanted nothing more for me and Tina but to be married and have babies. She’s in her glory that this is finally starting for me. I wonder if she ever questioned this way of life, if she ever wanted anything more for herself, or for us? But glancing at her now, dripping in diamonds and expensive clothing, in a house with so many bedrooms there are some that have never even been slept in, I guess that if she ever did have doubts, she has shoved them down so deep inside herself that they’ve all but disappeared.
Mamma grasps me by the elbow and starts leading me around the room, introducing and re-introducing me to people in our entourage. Hardly any of the guests are total strangers to me, though many of them I haven’t seen in quite some time. I’ve spent the last four years in college, and only came back around six months ago. College was an indulgence my father allowed me, one for which I should be endlessly thankful. Not many mafiaprincipesseare allowed such a frivolous luxury.
I smile and nod at everyone we talk to, saying all the right things just like a good little Mucci daughter should. In between introductions, I cast glances out the arched windows of the room at the inky night sky, dotted here and there by the twinkling lights of the back patio like brilliant stars. I wish I could be outthere, drinking in the night air, free from the scrutiny of all these eyes.
Wishes are useless, though. I don’t get to make my own decisions tonight.
Everyone here is part ofla famiglia. The Vincenzis, the D’Agostinos, the Bianchis. Even the boss, Luca Pagano is here. He catches my eye and silently raises a glass at me as I pass by.Whoa. My heart lurches at the realization that his presence confirms how serious my father is about marrying me off. All unions in the prominent families are approved or rejected by the boss. So of course, he is here as a matter of respect.
Under my father’s watchful eye, my mother guides me toward the Vincenzi family. Giovanni Vincenzi gives me a little bow and takes my hand, kissing it. The gesture is so ridiculous I have to stop myself from snorting out loud. My mother must hear the sound I stifle, because she cuts me a sharp glance, and I clear my throat self-consciously.
Giovanni doesn’t let go of my hand after the kiss. Instead, he pulls me off to one side. I glance at my mother, expecting her to protest, but she pointedly looks away, turning to start a conversation with one of the other Vincenzis.
Across the room, I notice that Tina does indeed seem to have captured the interest of Stefano Bianchi, one of the other men my father considers my potential suitor. Well, she can have him as far as I’m concerned. He is handsome, to be sure, but looks aren’t enough to tempt me.
“You’re looking delicious tonight, Serafina,” Giovanni leers, eyeing me up and down.
