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“Gentleman, welcome. Mr. Romano is this way, follow me,” a slimy young man in a suit says, and the four of us do what we are told as he walks toward a door at the far end of the small marble lobby we have entered.
Pushing it open, we enter a room with floor to ceiling windows surrounding the entire space and a dancefloor below. A fully stocked bar that runs the length of one wall and black leather armchairs and sofas are spread around the room.
There are a few men in the room and two beautiful women behind the bar. The man leads us over to a set of sofas where Sebastian Romano sits regally with a few of his soldiers flanking his side and back. They look ready to take a bullet for him and fire one in return as soon as he gives the signal.
I lead my brothers toward him. He watches me like a hawk, his eyes never leaving mine as we walk across the room to him. He stands as we get close to him.
“Big balls, Marshall. Big fucking balls,” Sebastian says as we shake hands, a level of respect passes between us.
He extends his hand in a silent movement to offer me a seat on the opposite sofa, and I sit down as my brothers flank me. Jake remains standing, like a soldier, ready for action at a moment's notice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jake’s eyes flicking to everyone and everything, Shaun’s looking directly at Sebastian, probably not quite believing that we are in the same room as him and Stephen’s looking over the club, no doubt mentally tallying up the numbers to compare to his own establishment. But when Sebastian speaks, all our eyes are on him.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks as he lifts his glass of whiskey, and I wait until he has it in his mouth before I reply.
“I have come to ask you for permission to marry Frankie.”
He stills, swallows the liquid and puts his glass down as the team around him puts their hands on their guns and the rest of the people in the room retreat out the doors. The change in atmosphere would be comical if it wasn’t such a serious situation. The mere mention of his sister has created such a different environment and has vacuumed all the air from the room.
We sit staring at each other for what feels like a lifetime, but I am sure it’s only seconds as the room clears and there are only eight men in the room. Four of us and four of them. The silence is jarring, the only sound is the faint beat from the music below. Sebastian’s eyes have not left mine, and I match him in the stare, not wanting to waver, not wanting to show weakness. We didn’t come armed. We wanted to come in peace. But I am leaving with his permission, of that I am sure.
“Big balls, Marshall. Big fucking balls,” Sebastian grits out again, and I know I have caught him off guard as he takes another sip of his whiskey. As he does, I notice his eyes flick out across the floor below and he seems mesmerized by something. I turn my head and follow his gaze and see him watching a beautiful blonde woman in a glittery golden dress, who stands out from the sea of black-clothed patrons below. She looks every inch like Cinderella in a sea of monsters.
I look back at him and clear my throat, before his eyes look back and stare at me.
“Why?” he asks, giving nothing away, and I still don’t know whether I am getting out of here alive or dead, but I proceed.
“I will protect her with everything I have, everything I am. I will love her until her dying day, and I will respect her each and every day we are together. I love her, she is it for me,” I state. I don’t want to get mushy but want to cover the most important pieces the man would want to hear. He remains silent and takes another sip of his whiskey and looks at me, drilling me with his eyes.
“When?” he asks, and I feel a weight lifting. I start to feel hopeful for the first time in a long time.
“Tomorrow. At our family estate by the Archbishop of Boston. The four of us will be there and Frankie.” I state. I remain solid and firm, not wavering because I know I cannot show any weakness. I need him to respect me, not to like me.
“What time?” he asks and although I’m slightly confused, I reply. “In the morning, 10am.”
“Do you know what you are getting into Marshall? Marrying into the mob?” he asks, and I feel my brother Shaun stiffen beside me.
I nod. “I do.”
I am under no illusion that marrying Frankie puts a target on my head and that of my loved ones. I know that I will now need to help Sebastian in any way he asks, from this day moving forward.
“Do you?” he asks, looking at my brothers, each of them nodding in reply. We spoke about this over the past 48 hours. Everyone is giving me the chance to be with Frankie knowing that we will get tapped on the shoulder at some point for a favor. A favor we may not like to give, but will need to, just the same.
“Do you know about her and her current situation?” he asks, and I nod. “I do.”
“And you think marrying her will make her less desirable to our friend Enzo?” he grits out his name like it is poison, so I now know what Sebastian thinks of Enzo, and I am glad we are on the same page.
“I want to marry Frankie because I love her, but I am well aware that if she is married to me, then legally she can’t be married to anyone else, hence why I want to marry her sooner rather than later.”
Sebastian nods. “You do realize that with a bullet to the brain, she would be a widow and able to marry Enzo anyway?“
I nod. I know that it isn't a good plan, but it is what I want to do.
“I will be there. You have my blessing, don’t fuck it up, because I will kill you.” He stands; my time with him is now up.
My brothers nod, and I put my hand out to shake his. He takes it and pulls me close to him, in what appears to be a brotherly hug, before whispering, “We have a lot to discuss tomorrow, Marshall. See you at the altar.” He then slaps my back and walks out the door behind him.
We follow another guy in a suit, who leads us back to the elevator and the four of us get in and take it to ground level. Remaining silent the entire trip. Once we reach ground level, the same young woman is there, and she leads us back out the front and we get into our waiting cars.
