2. Nico
Nico
2
I check my cards before turning them face down. I won the last hand, and I’m on a streak.
Maybe my luck is beginning to change. I could use some good luck right about now.
“What’s that smirk for, kid?” Ron asks from across the table.
I raise my eyebrow at his disrespect and look pointedly at the pitiful pile of chips in front of him.
The old man is scared. Scared and losing.
Good.
That knowledge alone is why I don’t flip this table over and strangle one of my father’s men.
Instead, I roll my eyes.
“Bratty fucking—”
My blood boils and I reach for my knife, but Enzo beats me to it. He flicks open his
pocketknife and stabs it between Ron’s splayed fingers, piercing one of the cards.
“Do you want to finish that statement?” He asks, his deep voice smooth and casual, as if we’re just sitting here talking about the weather.
I smirk as Ron’s face pales.
“I’m out,” Ron says, backing away from the table and holding up his hands. “No offense, kid.” He takes another step before walking away, fast.
Enzo’s jaw ticks but I shake my head. I hate the disrespect as much as he does. But until I turn 25 next month and am a “made-man”, my father refuses to officially make me underboss. Just one more month and then I’ll be able to claim legitimacy in their eyes. To them, it doesn’t matter that I’ve been working to advance our family’s interests for the last six years or that I’m twenty-four-fucking-years-old. Without that legitimacy, I might as well be an actual child, not the heir, destined to become Don.
The dealer reveals the next two cards.
Fuck.
I scratch my chin and look around. Enzo folded, Ron walked, and Danny is out. Alec and Tommy aren’t giving away any signs. I toss in two chips, raising the bet.
What’s life without a little risk? It’s what I’ve been trained for my entire life. And I am more than ready for the future I was born to take on.
I need a sanctioned kill in order to be accepted – preferably completing a hit contract.
Last week, I tried to talk my father into letting me kill Bernie, the Cossi solider they caught stealing from our warehouse. But he refused and told me to be patient.
I’ve been fucking patient for years and I’m tired of it.
The dealer flips the last card.
I got no matches. I push all my chips in anyway. I’m bored, with this hand and everything else in my life right now.
“Where’s your father?” Alec asks, taking one look at my bet and folding his cards.
“Getting married,” I grunt, taking the pot because Tommy is too afraid to match my bet.
The men all exchange surprised looks and I shrug.
It sounds crazy because it is.
After my mother died, I didn’t think he’d marry again, but here we are.
He claimed my mother was the singular love of his life, so maybe he just meant he’ll never marry for love again. For men like us, marrying for love is an oddity, not an expectation.
Emotions like love are risks. People you love can be used against you.
“What are you boys doing here then? What, you weren’t invited to the big event?” Tommy asks. “Why the hell not?”
Enzo rakes in the cards, leaving the pierced one remaining skewered and face down on the table.
“No,” Enzo says, shuffling. “Although, to be fair? I don’t think kidnapping your soon-to-be bride usually includes a big audience.”
There’s muted laughter around the table, but I don’t miss the few confused glances.
Father has kept this one close to his chest. I don’t believe it’s love, but no one really knows what it is except him.
Whoever his new wife is, I hope she’s closer to his age than mine. I take a sip of my drink. In our world, the Don can take whoever or whatever he wants. An eighteen-year-old bride wouldn’t be unheard of, but it’s usually to secure heirs. Father already has those. Marrying a girl younger than me would serve less purpose for him.
“Do you think Dad will move her in when they get back?” Enzo asks quietly, leaning in to catch my eyes, while the others carry on.
The thought of my father parading around his new wife makes me cringe. Enzo and I live at home with Dad because that’s what is expected of us, but having to watch your parent go through the honeymoon phase in the same house would be rough at any age.
“For her sake, I hope not. And if he does? It won’t be for long.”
I take another sip of my drink. Enzo gives me a sympathetic look before turning back to the table. He’s always been the one who understands me the most.
The facts are simple: I’m an adult. A man in the eyes of the law and soon to be one in the eyes of the Mafia. I don’t have the time or the desire to play house with my father’s most recent conquest.
It’s not like we’ll be her actual sons, or she will be any kind of a real parent to us.
She’s nothing more than a decoration and a warm hole that my father has decided to temporarily bind himself to for reasons that he hasn’t shared with us. That’s it.
“Enough of this bullshit – let’s play!” Enzo calls out, dealing the cards.
I drain my glass and motion for one of the men to refill it.
It’s going to be a long night.