The Last Vendetta (Mafia Bosses)

1. Giulia

Like every other party I was expected to attend, the reception for Luka Bernardi and Cecilia Romano was a bore. The same old. All the Mafia Families coming together. Mine only came to keep up appearances. These gatherings were opportunities to maintain a closer eye on enemies and friends, and those two labels interchanged often.

Everyone knew the Acardis would forever be rivals of the Bernardis. Yet, here we were, acting like we wouldn’t just as easily stir up some trouble for old time’s sake.

If the bride weren’t a Romano, things would be tenser. As the oldest Family of this criminal world, the Romanos held the most weight, hoarded the most wealth, and flaunted the most power. The Romanos, whether we liked it or not, dictated that we try to behave tonight.

No matter how Nickolas Romano acted like an idiot right now. Surrounded by three women, all dolled up and preening for his attention while he spoke with his father, Marcus. They stood there like kings, gods among the inferior. Talking freely without a care in the world.

My lip curled in disgust at Nickolas groping one guest and pulling her closer. The girl barely hid her flinch at his rough touch.

Ugh. No thanks.

My mother would expect me to get pawed at and take it. To be submissive like a good Mafia daughter should. To roll over and let men do as they please.

“No thanks,” I mumbled to myself as I walked further from the dance floor.

As the eldest daughter to my parents, Rocco and Isabella Acardi, I knew it would one day be me up there by the head table. I would be a bride, foisted into an arranged marriage. Cecilia had to go through the ordeal tonight, smiling and pretending that she was glad to be married to Luka Bernardi. That she chose it. That she welcomed a life of being his possession.

The day when it would come for me lurked closer. I was already twenty-three, and in our world, I should be snatched up soon.

All the better to pop out kids and all that drama.

I rolled my eyes, dreading my turn. There was no escaping it. I would be married off. Instead of wanting to complain about my circumstances, I should’ve spent the last hour mingling and trying to get a feel for which asshole I’d be paired up with.

My mother was strategizing. I knew she was scheming and planning here, eyeing which prospective man I could get hitched with and which Family she could benefit the most from. Everyone who mattered had shown up to be seen on Luka and Cecilia’s big day. She couldn’t have had a better opportunity to shop around for me than this.

But no one appealed. Not a single man stood out to me. They were all the same, ruthless, greedy, and all out for themselves.

Love wouldn’t be a factor in the equation for the rest of my life. Intimacy was a joke. As I looked around at the men here, I knew arousal would be a laughing matter too.

“Giulia,” my younger sister, Mariana, said as she passed me by. “You look so…”

“Oh, don’t start.” I smirked at her, checking that she was only getting another slice of cake to take to the table our Uncle Dario sat at. He waited, no doubt, for her to bring him that second slice she held since he wasn’t able to walk well with his cane.

“If Mama saw you looking all pissy and grumpy…” Mariana teased.

“Shh,” I scolded her playfully. All four of us Acardi girls were subject to our mother’s constant criticism. I had it the worst, as the eldest, but I found a nugget of humor in the way Marianna could tease me about it.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

I shrugged, not bothering to invest much effort in the gesture. “Nothing, really. Just bored.”

And annoyed.

Everyone here was trying to get in the Romanos’ favor. And those who weren’t were mooching off the chance to mingle and strike deals. No gathering was ever “fun” or “peaceful”. Something was always at work. Somebody was always making plans or plotting trouble.

Knowing my mother had to be around here considering who I could marry simply upset my stomach.

It is what it is.

“Well, you’re of age.” Marianna smiled as she grabbed a champagne flute from the tray of a passing waiter. She thrust it to me, almost dropping Dario’s cake plate, and I hurried to help her in the fumble. “Why be bored or look so grumpy when you can just drink and make it easier?”

I took the flute, shooting her a stern look. “You mean like Father does?”

Marianna shrugged. It was her turn to suggest it is what it is . She had no right to push me to imbibe in alcohol. She was only fourteen, but she wasn’t stupid. I bet she wished to escape this party just as much as I did, but she was limited as a minor.

Together, we glanced toward our father. He stood near our mother as she talked and talked and talked, all about being seen and heard. The glass at his lips was almost empty, and once it was, he set it down and sighed as though he immediately needed another.

“I bet it doesn’t help, anyway.” Marianna frowned, looking at all the guests partying here. She was the only child in attendance, and she had to feel like the odd one out. I’d argued with Mother to let Marianna stay home with Beatrice and Lucia, but she’d insisted on “checking out the options” for Mariana. If she intended to try to marry her off so soon, when she was barely an adult…

What? What can I do about it? I clenched my teeth, hating how stuck we were as Mafia daughters. I couldn’t stop my sister from being paired up with someone way too old for her any more than I could tell my mother no when she matched me with some abusive jerk.

And they all were.

“Uh-oh.” Marianna winced. “You look even madder now.”

I smiled quickly. “I just need a breath of fresh air,” I lied. Stepping outside wouldn’t solve anything, but I could take a break from the cloying perfume, overwhelming cologne, and the stench of too much garlic on everyone’s breath as they tried to get too close to talk and be heard over the music and chatter.

“Stay with Uncle Dario,” I instructed her.

She nodded, already heading back to him at the table. “He’s making it manageable.”

I raised my brows. “How?”

Marianna giggled. “People watching. And making up stories ad-lib-style about them.”

I smiled, heading outside with my champagne.

My mother wouldn’t let me hide for long. She’d track me down and insist that I try to socialize with the men, one of whom might soon be my fiancé. Even though tonight was supposed to be all about celebrating Luka and Cecilia, all the Mafia mothers would be doing the same things my mother was doing.

Scheming. Planning. Observing. Judging.

It was all she did.

No wonder Father just steps aside and seeks the oblivion of alcohol.

I sighed, then lifted my glass to my lips.

Night had long since fallen, and out here on the smooth patio stones of the courtyard entrance, I finally welcomed a sense of peace. Of solitude. Of loneliness I wished I could count on.

How serene it would be to truly be unbothered. No sisters to help raise. No mother to appease and avoid. No leering men to dread.

Just to be.

I breathed in deeply and set my hands on the cool granite railing. My glass stood on the top of a post, shadowed by the copious flowers overflowing from the planter space. Light glittered off the rim, though, reflecting the many lights from within the ballroom I’d just left.

Music floated out, teasing my ears without the harshness of too many decibels with the conversations inside. Beyond the chords from the band, the gentle trickle of water streaming into a fountain calmed me.

This was much better. Almost Zen-like. Alone and not being criticized or considered to be anyone’s pawn.

“Just for a moment,” I whispered to myself. Because even if my mother didn’t hurry to find me and keep tabs on me, like a freaking pet, I’d need to go back in and salvage the situation with Father. He’d drink more and more. Quicker and quicker. Loose tongues never went well, and I could always count on him to listen to me.

“Shh! Someone’s going to know I’m slacking off,” a woman nagged. Her tone was light and flirty, hinting at excitement.

I let my face fall into a blank stare at the navy-blue sky speckled with stars.

Someone was coming. Or a couple was.

A man’s deep chuckle followed the woman’s playful scolding. She giggled right after.

So much for peace.

Without turning my head, not moving from my position on this second tier of the patio, I leaned against the railing and stared at the sky. The ledge of the stone column next to me held my champagne, and the protrusion of the formation offered me a slight hiding spot.

Please, don’t see me. Please, please, don’t bother me. Just go away, out there, and do what you have to without making me give up this spot.

The couple didn’t pause, sneaking out of the party to get into the gardens down below. They didn’t spot me, but I caught enough of a glimpse as they went down the steps to the side.

Bernardi. I grimaced in annoyance.

While it would’ve been extremely scandalous to catch Luke Bernardi stepping away from his wedding reception to hook up with a server working at it, I wasn’t even surprised to see his younger brother chasing a young woman out like this.

Renzo Bernardi was the spare brother. The second born. In other words, useless to carry on the Bernardi bloodline. He knew it too, and he exploited his freedom.

A player. A partier. A loose daredevil of a wealthy man who didn’t have to work or meet his father’s expectations. I imagined Giovanni Bernardi hardly cared what his second son did. And I bet Luka envied Renzo’s easygoing lifestyle, sans obligations.

I was jealous myself. Being a man in our world was a blessing, autonomy and the permission to make their own choices. It sounded like a dream, and it was one this lazy punk took for granted.

He followed the server, his gaze latched on her ass as she hurried ahead of him. She held his hand, luring him out of the party area, and he tagged along behind. He wasn’t grinning and excited like she was when she looked over his shoulder at him. If anything, he almost seemed bored. Like taking this employee out here for a quickie was just another thing to do. Just another way to pass the time.

His suit stretched and pulled over his muscled physique, but under the moonlight, I had plenty of illumination to really see him. Tall but not bulky. Strong but not beefy. I stared at the sexy man who was off-limits. Admitting my appreciation of Renzo Bernardi would be akin to saying I cared for the enemy. Acardis and Bernardis would never mix. That rule had been imprinted in my mind since I was young.

Still, there was no law against appreciating eye candy. I didn’t see how wrong it was to simply admire a powerful, handsome man—especially in this rare moment when he wasn’t aware that I spied on him.

Until he found me.

He suddenly glanced over while following the server, but the chase was over. His blue eyes lit up under the slash of light that cut through the nightscape from the many windows behind us. Lower, but not out of sight, he happened to notice me peering at him from above.

They’d reached the middle tier of the elaborate courtyard entrance, one level below me.

But his focus was no longer on the easy piece of ass he’d come out here to enjoy.

Over and over again, he glanced up at me, stuck on smirking at me for hiding away from the party.

Dammit. So much for a peaceful moment.

“Oh. You want to stop here?” The server giggled, reaching for his pants and kissing up his neck. “That’s fine.”

He let her reach for his buckle but stood there unimpressed with her lips on his skin.

Still, he glanced up at me with something like a naughty smile curving his mouth upward.

I rolled my eyes, irked that such an attractive man had to be such a playboy ass. Not bothering to look away, I flipped him off. Thanks for ruining my quiet, peaceful moment. Cut too short. As expected.

He grinned, only now reaching for the server’s hands and breaking away from her. “Actually, never mind.”

“What?” She pouted, lifting her hands to grab the back of his neck. “No. Come on. Right here is fine for me.” Her fingers locked on his wrist as she tugged his hand to lay over her breast.

“No. No thanks.” He stepped back again.

“But I?—”

“No,” he repeated, firmly, as he spun her around and then shoved her shoulder to get her going.

She glared at him over her shoulder. “But?—”

“Get back to work,” he ordered as he walked across the patio, away from her and toward the other set of stairs.

Yeah, please leave. Both of you.

I ground my teeth, watching as the girl sulked off to exit up the stairs she’d just tugged him down. At the same time, he leisurely climbed the other set.

As though he wanted to approach me .

I refused to turn my head. Acknowledging him would give him too much satisfaction, but with every footfall that heralded his coming closer to me in the shadows, I felt a dizzying mixture of loathing and giddiness building up inside me.

I had no reason to be excited about Renzo seeking me out. We were enemies at best. Mere acquaintances otherwise.

But there he was, leaning his forearms on the railing, mirroring my stance.

“Hiding?” he asked, his teasing tone full of amusement just to mock me.

I narrowed my eyes at the stars above, determined not to let him see how he got to me. “I was .”