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There are no words my father can say that would sway me to assume leadership of our family. After graduating Summa cum Laude from Loyola University, my plan is to begin graduate school in the upcoming spring semester. I wanted to spend more time with my siblings before leaving the country. We’re very close and like me, they’re sad that I’ll be so far away. Despite my father's dismissive attitude regarding my educational pursuits, my unwavering resolve allows him no room for objection. Trying to remain respectful at the same time showing my passion for freedom was difficult to navigate. My mother enjoys our discussions about the future, often expressing admiration for my determination and longing for even a fraction of my courage.
Inhaling deeply to clear my mind, I snatch up my phone and head downstairs. The atmosphere in the house is tranquil, affording me a little time to brace myself for the inevitable barrage of inquiries, objections, and challenges from my father. Recently, his insistence on my attendance at meetings and sessions with my trainer has only intensified. At the tender age of thirteen, I was initiated into the world of weaponry, gravitating towards knives as my preferred choice. This initiation was all part of my father's grand scheme, ensuring I possessed the skills to defend myself and our family in the event of an attack by a rival family. While it seemed absurd to me, I devised my own strategy: comply with my father's demands in hopes that when the time came for me to depart, he would be more open-minded to the goals I set for myself.
Pushing through the French doors that lead to the terrace, I’m immediately enveloped in my mother’s warm embrace.
“Good morning sweetheart and happy birthday!” She exclaims, holding me close for a moment longer than usual.
“Good morning mother,” I answer, feeling her soft kiss on my cheek before she finally releases me. Turning to my father, I notice the emotion in his eyes, a tenderness that warms my heart. Rare moments like these make me crave his affection, so I burrow into his embrace. The familiar scents of pine and vanilla bring me back to a simpler time when I was just a little girl who adored her daddy.
“How does it feel to officially be an adult?” He inquires with a smile.
“I don’t feel any different, but it’s certainly exciting as I enter this next chapter, I reply as I look over the buffet. Greta had the kitchen staff prepare a beautiful spread of garden cheddar frittata, sausage, brioche, and custard cream-filled cornetto. The aroma alone was enough to set my taste buds afire as I added fresh steamed milk to my espresso and loaded up my plate with food. However, the day's excitement quickly faded when my father states,
“There's a meeting I need you to attend on Saturday. A shipment of semi-automatic rifles is coming in from New York and the product needs to be tested. Antonio and I must leave town for some business with one of our cocaine suppliers,” he announced, seemingly disregarding any input from me.
“Babbo (dad), you know I have plans with Nico this weekend. I also know that this is your way of trying to interfere, but I can't accommodate your request. You'll need to find someone else,” I respond calmly, though my inner resolve clashed with my composed demeanor. It wasn't fear motivating my refusal. What my father fails to understand is that his attempts to intervene in my relationship only serve to push me further away.
My birthday had begun on a high note with Nico's thoughtful call, but with a single sentence, my father managed to extinguish the flicker of joy I had been holding onto. I refuse to let him disrupt my birthday celebration with Nico. It feels as though I’m battling my father for control over my life, and it's not fair. None of this was my choice, and it seems rather odd that he expects me to embrace this life as a woman. Leading Chicago's mafia is dangerous. Will the families acknowledge my leadership and follow my vision? Or will it provoke adversaries trying to gain control by starting a war? There are a number of things that can go wrong, yet my father insists I'll command the same, if not greater, respect than he does. I’m not sure that’s possible considering the chatter that’s being heard amongst the members.
Nico has witnessed meetings where my father's decisions were questioned, casting doubts on my ability to lead the family. These discussions shouldn't occur; any concerns should be addressed directly with my father. Carlo Beneventi's disregard for the rules is precisely why many opposed his rule over Chicago. While a few families disagreed with my father, they ultimately aligned with the majority, prioritizing everyone’s safety . Don't misunderstand me, I'm grateful for the privileges I've enjoyed. As of today, I have access to a twenty-five-million-dollar trust fund, my undergraduate education was fully funded from freshman year onward, and I've traveled extensively since childhood. However, these comforts pale in comparison to the prospect of freedom from this lifestyle.
“Liliana, you must understand the position I’m in as the head of our family. It doesn’t look favorable for you to be involved with a man whose family has long been our rival?” He states, as if our families are mortal enemies.
“That's merely an excuse to try and tear Nico and me apart. There hasn't been any hostility between our families for years. Why can't you just let us be?” I seethe, disgusted that he would do this to me on my birthday.
“I don't expect you to grasp the depth of problems this will cause, but if you persist in this relationship, the Beneventi family will exploit your connection to gain power. Is that what you desire, Liliana?”
“Nico would never betray me like that. He loves me and wants nothing to do with this life.”
“Is that what he told you?” He softly utters as if speaking to a naïve child.
“It's what I believe to be true, Babbo,” I respond with desperation, drained from defending Nico to my father.
“Then you're a fool, and I swear, Liliana, if you push me, I will take whatever action necessary for our family's sake.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, alarmed by the certainty in his tone. He's never spoken like this before, so what's changed?
“It means significant changes are taking place after your birthday celebration. You may spend this weekend with Nico, but afterward, I will not allow you to see him. I've consented to your graduate studies, and that's as far as my leniency extends.”
This can't be real, I think to myself, glancing at my mother, hoping she'll intervene and oppose this absurdity. To my dismay, she avoids my gaze, her silence an implicit agreement with my father. It's then that I realize the shell my mother has become.
While I understand that a woman must honor her husband, I’m at a loss of words at the moment. Looking back and forth between them, I realize there’s nothing more to say. Something had to have happened for my father to say this. It’s as if he’s made a declaration that I have no choice but to follow or there will be life altering consequences.
A knot forms in my stomach and I suddenly feel ill. Wiping my mouth with my cloth napkin, I rise to excuse myself. When my mother reaches out towards me, she doesn’t say anything, just stares. Desperation fills her eyes, begging me to understand her position but I gently pull my arm away. Her once comforting touch does nothing but sadden me. I’m not privy to the private conversations that my parents have behind closed doors, however, it’s hard to imagine that I would stay silent if my children’s lives were dictated for them by their father. Maybe I should take the helm and ensure nothing like this ever happens again. Without a word, I head back inside and up to my room. I may be twenty-one years old but I feel as though I’m a small child who has no say in where my life goes. Running away would be juvenile, but what choice do I have? Fantasies fill my head of spending time with Nico this weekend and never coming home. We could live the life we’ve always dreamed about where no one can find us.
The vision quickly fades because that’s all it would be, a fantasy that will never come true. It's not a fear of physical harm from my father that troubles me. He would never do anything to hurt me that way. Rather, it's the shame it would bring upon my family and the repercussions of opposing what was set forth from the time I was ten years old. The Leonis, Morettis, and Sorrentos, the other prominent families of Chicago, were all in attendance for my father's initial proposal: on my twenty-first birthday, I would assume the role as Underboss and his eventual successor. He always sensed something unique in me, vowing to educate me in the Cosa Nostra (Sicilian Mafia) ways.
At such a young age, I didn’t quite understand what was happening but I quickly began to understand the gravity of my situation. My life was not by own, replaced by a predetermined fate that fueled rebellion within me. I hoped my father would take notice of my suffering, releasing me from this path. But my defiance was misconstrued as determination. Every possible path of escape has a roadblock that leaves me emotionally drained. The only road that appears to be clear is ending my relationship with Nico.
3
Nico
Each day, there are recurring conflicts between myself and my adoptive father, Carlo Beneventi. Our mutual dislike for each other stems from circumstances that forced us together. I often find myself wondering if I would have been better off if fate hadn't led me to this family. My backstory is rooted in tragedy: my biological mother, a teenage runaway struggling to survive on the harsh streets of Chicago, fell victim to the dangers of prostitution. It seems I inherited her rebellious spirit, which is one of the reasons Carlo harbors resentment towards me. At just sixteen years old, she endured a horrific ordeal when a client violently assaulted her, resulting in my conception. Left with no support and nowhere to turn, she gave birth to me in an alley beside a restaurant owned by the Beneventi family. In a strange twist of fate, Tomas Sorvino, Carlo's Consigliere, happened to be nearby as she screamed in pain.
Tomas ran back inside and alerted everyone to the situation. When Carlo came to the side of the building, he glanced down at us and declared that we were not his concern. The asshole wanted to leave us in that grimy alley to fend for ourselves. Despite this, my adoptive mother, Mia, refused and called for an ambulance. She insisted on accompanying us to the hospital, while Carlo left for home, leaving three of his men to watch over his wife.
Although my birth mother was grateful for the compassion shown, she never intended to keep me. Choosing to put me up for adoption was her way of expressing love, as she realized she was unable to care for me and feared that I would always remind her of the man who had attacked her. Mia assured her that she would take care of everything. Even going so far as to provide a place for my birth mother to recover. To Carlo’s dismay, he had his lawyer draw up an agreement that gave the Beneventi family sole custody of me and she in turn would receive enough money to start a new life in another state.
