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“As much as you know I’d love to, I can’t. I still have so much to do with this conference at the university.” She lets out a sigh.
Even though Maya’s a year older, I had finished in three years, so we finished undergrad at the same time. We both attend Columbia, where I’ll be wrapping up my law degree in a month, while she finishes her Masters in Economics before moving on to her PhD. My dream is to become a criminal lawyer, for criminals, of course.
“Oh, right. How’s that going?” I ask.
“Really well! I know it’s not your thing, but I’d think you’d really enjoy it. We have a lot of trailblazers and business leaders coming to speak. That could help, since you want to work for the Violante family’s businesses.”
Right.I told her I wanted to work for them, and she assumed I meant as a corporate lawyer, but I just never corrected her.
“I’m going to try. I’ve been so busy looking for fellowships and studying for the bar. I don’t even know which way is up.”
“You have nothing to worry about. You’re one of the smartest people I know. Seriously, do you even try?”
Before I can get out a syllable, she looks at her watch. “Ugh, well, I have to get going. It was so nice seeing you! Can’t wait for your birthday!”
“Just a normal night out, Maya,” I say to her as she packs her things.
Completely ignoring me, she snaps her fingers like she had just come up with an idea and opens her mouth. “Oh, hey, you should invite Jeremy out. He’s totally got the hots for you.”
“I told you I’m not interested in Jeremy.”
He definitely has a crush. It’s not that he’s not attractive. No, it’s because of who I am—marriage, kids. The whole nine yards were never in the cards for me. I knew that from a young age, so there was never a point in getting attached to anyone. I could never marry a non-mafioso. It would be toodangerous, nor could I marry into the Outfit. I was an outsider to them. The orphan. Marriages outside of the house you belonged to only happened for business purposes and forming alliances. I have no power. I’m nobody.
“Just think about it. You don’t have to marry the guy. One night won’t kill you!” She winks at me, and with that, she’s off. Maya’s always been a free spirit. She can convince me to do anything. It was hard saying no when I secretly craved adventure and chaos. Papa calls us Trouble One and Trouble Two. I laugh to myself as my phone buzzes.
Dom: Taking off, see you soon birthday girl!
Me: FYI Maya’s planning.
Dom: Shit, I’ll beef up security.
Me: I can’t tell if you’re joking.
Dom: With all the shit you two get into, this is not a joke.
Me: LOL you mean all the shit she gets me into!
Dom: Yeah, I’m pretty sure you both getting stuck on Long Island at 3 a.m. was your doing.
Me: Omg, that was one time! Whatever, just text me when you land.
Dom: She’s going to ask for my credit card isn’t she?
Me: *shrugging girl emoji*
Dom: *eye roll emoji* Bring the Porsche when you pick me up, I’m driving.
As I gather my things, I think about how strange my life is and the circumstances that resulted in this. As a Chinese-American girl brought up by the Italian mafia—strange is an understatement.
My real father died when I was a baby—life in the underworld and all—and so did Dom and Donna’s mom—car accident. My mother remarried Cesare, the real love of her life. Life threw another wrench my way when she got cancer.
Cesare tried to raise me as his own, but it was too dangerous being an outsider. Not because I wasn’t Italian. Anyone who wasn’t born or married into the Outfit was considered an outsider. That’s how it is with all mafia syndicates. With my mother’s passing, most of the Outfit men didn’t see me as one of them anymore, especially since I was, technically, born into another crime organization. I couldn’t go back to my mother’s family. She was labeled a traitor after marrying Papa. So, after she died, Papa thought it’d be safer for me to have a normal life in New York with my adoptive parents. No one knows I was adopted except for Papa, Dom, and Donna. The secrets never end.
Nico
“Can someone explain to me what the fuck happened?” my brother Bash said in his calm voice, which meant he was anything but calm.
Three of our men stood there silently, looking like Larry, Curly, and fucking Moe. Three goddamn stooges. Their eyes meeting everything but Bash’s, like they were fucking five-year-olds getting ripped into by their mothers. Not made men.
