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My soldiers had informed me that the Giordanos hadn’t returned to London, unlike previous years. At first, it had been because Alessandro Giordano had been hospitalised, and I hadn’t been sure why they were still here, but now perhaps I understood. In those few weeks he’d been incarcerated, I’d found myself in many places of depravity as I worked tirelessly to dig up anything more I could on him. But people had been silenced and ranks had seemingly closed around him. I knew I should have been pleased when it became apparent that for now the trafficking of innocents had effectively stopped, but I also knew it would only stay that way if the leader was exterminated.
I recognised that his personality would never allow him to walk away entirely. A predatory being like him would be seeking the sensation his actions gave him, the control he gained over others, and he’d made too much money over the years to be able to walk away. The marriage he was asking our Don to arrange would keep his family tied to us and somewhat safe. Then someday, he thought that he would once again be able to start up his depraved transactions in human souls.
His actions towards my mama had made sure we were bound together and my cold, unfeeling heart would never accept him getting less than the pain he’d caused me.
I struggled to keep in a smile that was threatening to develop across my face, as I understood that the conversation in the room had told me all I needed to know. One day he’d put a foot wrong and I was going to be the one to bring him to his knees.
‘Serafina.’ I spoke without thinking, as thoughts of Alessandro once again disappeared, and her pretty face filled my head.
I felt it as the other four men in the room stopped talking and turned their heads to look at me in question.
‘You know of her?’ Vincenzo questioned, catching me off kilter.
‘On your instructions, Don Ferraro, our families swore an alliance to each other a few years ago, and through that I got to know the older sons. I was reacquainted with Serafina a year ago when we took her first communion together.’
‘At your age?’ Enzo Ferraro laughed, before catching the look I’d sent him that had him turning away to take some fresh bread from his mama.
‘Enough.’ Vincenzo lifted his hand to his son.
‘With respect, Enzo… You know as well as anyone in this room that Gianni’s son has only recently found his way into our family.’ My grandfather offered as a reason.
‘I know… but you must admit that a man of his age receiving his first communion before God is laughable?’
‘I didn’t know that at twenty-three years old that receiving God’s sacrament was laughable?’ I asked the question very seriously and leant forward in my seat, placing my foot back to the floor and my elbows on my knees, before clasping my hands together in front of me. Without immediately lifting my eyes to what I knew would be his obvious discomfort, I twisted my “De Luca” blood red garnet around my finger and then slowly righted my head to stare at Enzo Ferraro, making sure my expression was cold and unreadable.
‘Enzo, your disrespect is shameful. Apologise,’ Vincenzo demanded.
‘I apologise.’ The apology came directly without any intent backing it.
I nodded my acceptance.
‘Do we have any thoughts on a suitable husband for… what was her name again?’ Vincenzo questioned.
‘Serafina,’ Enzo answered.
‘Alessandro Giordano has listed her attributes.’ He lifted the piece of paper once again and read from it. ‘She is attractive, demure, attentive to her family, she can cook, clean and manage a household budget.’
‘Fine skills to have, but she’s also intelligent.’ I gave them a quick insight into what I knew about little bird and wanted to suck my words back in as none of them deserved to know her.
‘Intelligence isn’t needed, in fact it can sometimes work against a marriage,’ my grandfather added.
‘Agreed,’ added Gianni. ‘I understand what Alessandro is trying to do, but we need to consider what family would want to lose one of their sons, when a shadow of doubt has been cast over the family?’
‘Many, I’m sure…’ Enzo spoke again, and just watching the fat that hung underneath his jawline wobble as he spoke, made my fist clench in anger. But when he carried on, it was all I could do to remain seated and seemingly unmoved by the statement that followed. ‘And she is a beauty, ripe for the picking. Giordano’s English bitch has been a fertile wife, and although Serafina’s hips aren’t wide enough to bear many sons, I for one would be willing to school her in our ways, so when I sunk my cock into her tight pussy… she would forget all about her intelligence and have nothing to show but gratitude.’
‘You’re willing to take her?’ My grandfather directed the question at Enzo.
‘Yes.’ A debauched smile took hold on Enzo’s face.
‘It’s an idea.’ Vincenzo smiled at his son. ‘I’ve wanted you to marry for years, maybe us taking her into our family could be the answer.’
I looked around the room waiting for someone else to see sense. I understood how family allegiances could be made and power struggles were sorted with arranged marriages, but from the outside in, they always at least looked fair. This proposed marriage looked nothing less than disgusting. Enzo had to be at least forty-five, maybe even closer to fifty. And the fact he was so over eager at the thought of making Serafina his bride made my stomach revolt. He was fat, sweaty and balding. A walking fucking heart attack. Disgusting visions filled my head of him taking Serafina’s virginity, causing bile to rise to the back of my throat.
No fucking way.
My fingernails dug into my palm and I tightened my grip further, needing the small amount of pain to remain focussed and not to jump to my feet to slam my fist into his pudgy, sweating face.
‘Wouldn’t your age difference cause questions to be asked?’ I interjected, as I hurriedly collected my thoughts together to present an argument.
