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SIENNA
Imade sure to look each and every man in the room in the eye as I stood before them. What would happen tonight would be historical, monumental, in the history of the mafia. Before tonight, women were barely partners, let alone anyone these men would publicly take council for. At worst, we were broodmares to produce heirs or daughters that could help them make alliances like this was the 17th century. But not anymore.
My father didn’t have any sons, and he hadn’t appointed an heir before he died. I think a part of him was hoping that it would come to this someday, that I would fight for the position he’d basically trained me in. I’d done the dirty work other heirs would have done my entire life, taking out those who opposed or betrayed us, torturing men for information, dealing with anything that would endanger our business. While I didn’t know as much as Mateo, he wasn’t in the position to take over. Half-Italians never could.
“Sienna—” Claudio Guarnieri started.
“Mrs. Rosania.” I’d purposely kept my last name. A small act of defiance against Dante and his father.
Claudio looked amused at having been corrected. “Mrs. Rosania. I have to admit that the vote tonight is…unusual.” That’s one way to put it. “Why have you stepped forward as your father’s heir?”
“Because I’m his only child,” I replied smoothly. I took a seat across from the men, separating myself just enough so they all had a clear view. “My father never appointed his own heir. He never had sons. Dante is already in line for another family,” I gave Sal Scarano a slight nod, “and I doubt any of you here would feel comfortable with the Scaranos having such a tight hold over two different families.”
Leo Moretti and Vito Costa frowned. Out of all the families, I knew they would be the ones I would have to convince the most. The Morettis rarely took sides between any internal disputes, choosing to stay neutral most of the time. The Costas only took the side that would be financially beneficial to them. But, if the Scaranos became a monopoly, it could tilt the balance between all of our families, and I knew no one at this table wanted that except one person.
“But you’re a woman.” Sal’s lip curled slightly. “A woman has never been Don in the history of the Italian mafia. Or any mafia, bratva, or cartel…ever. What would our brothers in Sicily think?”
“Griselda Blanco. Erminia Guiliano. Just to name a few.”
“But none of them were technically made Don,” Sal pointed out.
“Maria Licciardi.”
She was a personal hero of mine in terms of mafia legends. The men had their Capone, their Costello. I had Licciardi. She’d risen as the boss of one of the largest Camorra families in Italy, becoming one of the nation’s thirty most wanted criminals by 2001.
“But, as you said, those are just a few. And most had risen that high due to unconventional circumstances.” Sal leaned back in his chair, looking smug already.
“And wouldn’t you say this is an unconventional circumstance?” My gaze flicked between the men seated before me. “My father left no designated heir. No sons. I’m what’s left.”
“No, my son is what’s left. He’s the head male of your family now. He should be inheriting the title,” Sal snarled.
I looked around the room, bored. “I don’t see him here.”
“You little bi—”
“Sal.” Frank’s voice cut through the air. Sal cast me one last hateful sneer before sitting back down. Frank leaned forward, his hands folding on the table. “This is an unconventional circumstance, Mrs. Rosania; you’re correct. Which means that we cannot take this decision lightly. Say you do take over. What are your plans? How will you keep your men in line? Will they follow you?”
“I’ve already talked to my men,” I replied. “They know if they don’t follow me, they forfeit their lives.”
Sal scoffed. “And you’re the one going to enforce that? Or will you have others do the dirty work for you?”
I zeroed in on him. “I’ve been doing the ‘dirty work,’ as you put it, since I was a teenager. As most of you know.” I glanced between the other Dons, gauging their reactions.
Rossi and Guarnieri knew some of what I’ve done. The others had heard whispers, at least. Even Sal must have heard something. There were times I wasn’t always able to deal with the marks quietly. But that wasn’t often.
“I'm Rosania by blood—not by marriage. I know my father’s business inside and out. With Mateo, there will be nothing to impede me from fully taking over. I have what it takes to deal with my family and our enemies. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here now.” I met their eyes. “If I didn’t think I would be up for the job—if I didn’t think I would be perfect for the job—I would not have come. I would have let you decide the next Don and gone along with any decision like a good mafia woman. Instead, I’m here, and I’m telling you that I am the next best investment.”
Frank and Claudio exchanged slightly impressed looks. Or, at least, I hoped that’s what it was. Leonardo Moretti just looked bored now, while Mario Russo actually looked interested. He always loved a gamble, and I could see the gleam of curiosity in his eyes. Sal Scarano just looked pissed.
“We aren’t seriously going to consider this,” he said, noticing the others’ expressions. “She’s a woman.”
“It is the twenty-first century, Sal,” Mario drawled. “Equality and all that.” His hand waved in the air.
“I don’t see the harm in letting the girl take the title,” Frank finally said. “If she succeeds, we will be stronger for it. If she fails….”
“We can divide the Rosania assets equally and add it to our own,” Claudio finished.
As much as I hated thinking about my father’s businesses being divided between these men, I had to admit that it was a good offer. If I did do well—which I would make sure that I did—I got to keep my position. If I didn’t, then the other Dons would benefit from this investment. It was a win-win for all of us, as far as I could tell. Except for Sal.
