8. Enzo
Enzo
8
For all the chaos that exists in my life, some things are blissfully routine.
Family dinner is always on Friday. Mass is always on Sunday. This week, we woke up early because it’s our first Mass as a new family.
Albert insisted that we all attend together and that we attend the early service so we can see and be seen by the right people. For Albert, Mass is less about worship and more about being perceived in the right light. And a reminder to all that there’s no place he can’t reach.
Does everyone know that he’s the Don? Of course.
Do they know he has blood on his hands? Obviously.
But when he shows up to Mass with his pretty new wife, his dutiful sons, and his new daughter – he’s not a crime boss. He’s a family man. He is one of the community, ready to make amends for his sins. All while maintaining a stranglehold on pious men to protect ourselves from the justice of others, of course.
I pull at the collar of my button up shirt and carefully tuck the gold crucifix around my neck under my shirt.
I don’t enjoy church services. I didn’t grow up Catholic the way Nico did. There were no politics to protect in my upbringing. Learning when to sit and when to stand was a chore. Paying attention to Father John has been a whole hell of a lot harder for me than it’s been for Nico.
Until today.
I shift against the pew, letting my thighs spread apart, pushing against Christina, enjoying the spark that runs straight to my dick when our bodies touch. She’s so fucking perfect. And today’s service is going to be much more interesting with my sweet little princess seated next to me.
Nico must have the same thought. I see him smirking out of the corner of my eye. He sits on the other side of Christina, his knee bumping into hers.
She’s right where she belongs.
As if reading our thoughts, she adjusts the hem of her dress to sit lower on her legs, and tries her best to make herself smaller so neither of us is touching her. It only makes me want her more.
In the week since Christina has moved in with us, she has desperately tried to avoid us. It’s actually kind of hilarious.
When she sees us, she literally goes the other way. Nico and I have talked about slipping a tracker in her shoes and just popping out at her periodically to scare her.
I don’t mind that my princess wants to play hard to get. I enjoy the chase. Especially chasing something as pretty and perfect as her.
“Are we squishing you?” I ask in a whisper, pressing myself against her, enjoying the way she squirms.
“Nah, she looks good to me,” Nico says.
I lick my lips. Christina is beautiful every day, but today especially.
God, it’s amazing.
She’s dressed in a sweet, unassuming pale pink lace dress, and she looks the image of purity and subservience. The perfect little picture for a Don’s new daughter.
I grin to myself.
I’m almost positive that Albert helped pick out this outfit, hoping to present Christina to our world as an innocent young woman. That perfect blend of Virgin Mary and Mafia Princess, only available to the best of the best.
Too bad Nico and I are going to destroy that perfect little picture.
“Look at her, she’s pretending to be shy,” he whispers, clearly amused. His body inches closer.
“Do we make you nervous, princess?” I ask, following suit.
She squirms again, answering the question for us, before shooting me a disapproving look and whispering. “Shh.” She crosses her arms against her chest and frowns, but I can only concentrate on how the motion is pressing those ample tits out even more.
Maybe there is a God because she could not be more perfectly made.
I groan as she scowls. She was made for me. For us. Even her lips are plump. Everything about her is curvy and supple and begging to be sucked and squeezed.
“Stop staring,” she hisses, poking at my thigh with one delicate little finger.
I smirk and capture her hand in mine, bringing it up to my mouth to lightly graze her finger with my teeth.
Her subsequent gasp is like music to my ears.
So sweet. So pure. So… corruptible.
I glance over at our new stepmother, and she’s completely wrapped up in Albert. He’s even holding her hand. Gross.
They have no idea and that makes this even more perfect.
I nudge her shoulder just to make her scowl at me again. I fucking love when she looks at me like that. Like a little kitten testing out her claws for the first time.
It’s clear that Christina is used to being the good girl. I can’t wait to see just how far we can corrupt her.
Adorable.
“Have you tried praying? You’re too distractible,” she suggests, quietly admonishing me.
I lean closer to her so I can whisper my words into her ear. “I'd prefer to worship at your altar, princess. That’s where the real salvation lies.”
I place my hand, palm down, against the space in between our legs, letting my pinkie brush against her covered thigh.
I inch my touch up her skin, beneath her dress, closer to the center of her core.
She opens her legs, I think by accident, because her face pinkens and she tries to press her thighs together, but Nico is too fast. Seizing the opportunity, he grips her other knee, and prevents her from closing her legs and limiting our access.
I slide my hand beneath her dress while Nico does the same, effectively trapping her. She’s wet already.
My good girl.
I groan, watching her bite her lip as my fingers brush her clit beneath her underwear, making her shiver.
Poor princess.
I feel her body tense, but she’s not resisting us. It makes me want to push her, to discover what her boundaries are. I can’t wait to see what she does when we get her into our bedroom.
She’ll be absolutely magnificent.
What I would give to be able to unzip her dress right here, right now. I bet she would come so hard with both our cocks buried deep inside of her.
I slip my pinkie beneath the lacey fabric, barely brushing her folds before my attention is drawn back to the pulpit. The priest is blessing a golden goblet and I sigh heavily.
Damnit. Eucharist. The congregation all shifts in their seats, getting ready to stand.
It completely fucks over my plans.
I ease my hand away from her, disappointed and irritated. I lick the tip of the finger that was inside of her, wishing my Eucharist was her, as this false, orchestrated blessing interrupts the moment that might actually give me salvation.
I adjust my hard cock into the waistband of my pants, a poor attempt at hiding the evidence of what Tina does to me.
I take the wafer and hurry back to the pew. Christina didn’t go with us. The look on her face tells me all I need to know. She’s not religious, and she’s definitely not Catholic. Interesting.
I make a mental note to talk to Nico about baptizing her. It’ll be frowned upon for one of us to marry our stepsister. Having a non-Catholic wedding on top of it would be too much of a risk.
I’m thankful when service ends and we make our way to the parking lot. Hopefully lunch will go by just as quickly. I’ve never wanted to get home so fast.
Before we can usher Christina away from the crowd, Albert comes up behind her and wraps an arm around her shoulder, whispering something in her ear.
She smiles, walking away with him, leaving Nico and me to stand by and watch as Albert shakes hands with countless men dressed in custom suits.
His arm is wrapped around Meredith with Christina by their side. I notice her shift back and forth, looking uncomfortable under the scrutiny she is receiving.
Unlike many of the girls we grew up with, Christina actually seems to shy away from attention.
Unless it’s from us.
“Who do you think he’s trying to marry her off to?” Nico asks. He leans against the car, arms crossed against his chest as we wait. His jaw ticks.
I shove my hands in my pockets. She’s supposed to be Nico’s to deal with, but I’m positive Albert enjoys making him feel the pressure. He’s always been a little fucked up like that.
I kick at a loose piece of asphalt. I doubt Albert knows just how much pressure it’ll make him feel though… if he did, Christina would probably already be promised to the first asshole he could find.
I turn my attention back to Christina as she stands among the men. Four of the heads of the most important families in the city stand before Albert, each one greedier than the last. I watch with interest as Jimmy approaches my father, and then introduces himself to Christina.
Of course.
My hands clench into fists as Jimmy takes her delicate hand, bowing slightly, and kissing the tips of her fingers.
Nico looks away, but I can’t. Anger burns through me like wildfire, suffocating and vicious.
“Tell me Father is shutting that shit down.” Nico snarls, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Not quite.”
I bet he had this planned all along. God damnit.
I have to admit, it’d be a smart move. Marry Christina off to the Cosa’s, securing legal protection for the rest of our life.
“He’s still fucking touching her. Time to teach him a lesson in respect,” Nico pushes off the car ready to make good on his words when I grab him by the shoulder and yank him back. A dangerous move. Few people would dare take on Nico in a hand-to-hand fight.
He whirls around and punches, and while Nico might be fast, I’m faster, dodging his strike and using the force of it to knock him off balance and trap him against me.
“Calm the fuck down,” I growl. We can’t afford to draw attention and show our hand. Not yet. Not without a better plan.
He doesn’t listen, struggling against me, determined to break free.
“You’re making a scene,” I growl, tightening my hold and pressing down on his neck.
“Remember where the fuck you are, man. And who’s watching.” For a second, I wonder if he’ll tap out. The thought of having to drag his body into the car until he regains consciousness doesn’t sound appealing. Luckily, he taps.
I let him go, breathing hard myself.
He huffs, smoothing out his shirt and glaring at me before turning that hate back onto Jimmy.
“Pull it together, brother. You want to beat on Jimmy? Fine. But not here, not now, and not with this many fucking witnesses.” I say.
His gaze snaps back to me. “You’re supposed to be my muscle, Enzo. Mine. Not his. Watch my back while I fucking beat the life out of Jimmy Cosa.”
I shake my head. “I’m your reason, Nico. I protect you.” I crack my knuckles. “And sometimes that means protecting you from yourself.”
His dark eyes tell me all I need to know. Jimmy Cosa will walk out of here today. His father is a State Senator we keep under control, it’s best to not upset the balance of something so important. But terms have limits. And so does Nico’s already limited patience.
“Fine. But if he touches Christina again, all bets are off.”
I smack his shoulder. “And that’s why we need to come up with a plan.”
“Whatever Albert is up to, it’s not good. I mean it. We need a plan, and we need it fast.
Judging by the way Senator Cosa was grinning; my guess is they’re already in talks.”
Christina comes walking over in a rush, her brows furrowed.
“Looks like Albert was busy showing you off. Are you hungry?” I ask, moving to put myself between her and Nico. The asshole might’ve calmed down, but I can’t be certain he won’t put her into his car and kidnap her.
“Something like that,” she grumbles, stepping around me and slipping into the backseat.
“What the fuck was that all about anyway?” She asks us, looking uncomfortable. A nervous hand moves up and down her arm. “Why did Albert want me to meet all his friends?”
Nico takes that as his sign. He gets into the driver’s seat, and I hurry to open my door before he can drive away.
Nico presses the ignition and speeds out of the parking lot before either of us is ready.
I hear Christina squeal in surprise, sliding across the leather seats when Nico makes a turn.
“Jesus Christ, let me get my seatbelt on,” she yells. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Slow down!” Her voice is sharp and angry.
“You’re what’s wrong with me,” Nico says so low, I wonder if she can hear it.
I watch him carefully. He’s unhinged right now and it’s worrisome. On some level, I get it. I do.
Christina is intoxicating and her appearance in our life has upended everything.
But he can’t take that out on her. I refuse to let that happen.
“What was that?” She asks again. The biting tone in her voice makes me think that maybe she did hear him after all.
“You’re going to lunch,” I interrupt. “We’re taking you to lunch. It’s a family tradition. Every Sunday after church.”
Nico snorts, slowing to stop at a red light. We jerk a little in our seats at the sudden stop.
“You guys don’t strike me as very traditional.” She states carefully.
Nico and I exchange glances. Surely, she’s not that na?ve.
“Albert likes his rituals,” I start to answer.
I might not be the future Don, but right now, I’m the one most prepared to respond. Nico isn’t good with emotions and he’s about as subtle as an atomic bomb. This world, our world – it requires a certain amount of finesse to ease her into.
As soon as the light changes, Nico accelerates as if we’re on a fucking racetrack instead of a city street.
Our backs hit the seats and I swear under my breath.
“Nico! What the fuck is the matter with you?” Christina yells, reaching around to smack him on the arm.
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” A smile curls on his face, one that has nothing to do with pleasure. “What’s wrong with me is you. You, Christina. Specifically, the fact that your mother married my father and now we’re fucking stepsiblings and I’ve been charged with protecting the next little Mafia princess until she’s properly married off. Any guesses on who that is?”
Goddamn it, Nico.
She opens and closes her mouth in shock. I swear, I can hear the gallop of her heartbeat from here.
“Excuse me? W-what are you talking about?” She stutters.
I glance at her in the rear-view mirror, taking in her furrowed brow. Her wide eyes shift back and forth from Nico to me. She looks scared.
Shit.
She really has no idea what’s going on.
“Do you know where you are?” Nico asks, his voice suddenly cold.
“Millbury,” she answers, promptly.
“And do you know who controls Millbury?” He sneers.
He’s being a dick about this and it’s entirely unnecessary. When I glance back at her in the mirror, I see her wince when she puts it together.
“No.” She shakes her head. The tears welling in her eyes begin to spill over.
“Oh, yes. Your mother married into the Mafia, Christina.” Nico’s words are cold and fast.
“That pretty little dress you’re wearing? Paid for by the crimes of my father. You’re welcome, by the way.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath and I sigh heavily.
“No,” she cries. “You’re lying!”
Nico pulls out his piece and waves it around.
“Does this look like I’m lying to you?”
“Jesus, Nico – put it away. You’re scaring her.” I growl.
Reluctantly, he sets it on the console, and I double-check to make sure the safety is on.
“You should accept the facts, dear, sweet Christina,” he continues, his tone mocking, “Your perfect, justice-driven mother sold her morals, her soul, and you, the second she decided to hook up with my father.”
The pain written across her face tears me up inside. I wish I could take it away from her or take her away from this.
When Nico gets in these moods, he’s almost impossible to handle.
I knew I should’ve told her myself.
“The moment she said, ‘I do’,” Nico continues, “She sealed your fate. Congratulations, Angel.
You’re a Mafia princess. Welcome to the family. There’s no escape for you.”
Her face is deathly pale, and I reach back to lay a comforting hand on her knee. She flinches at my touch, and I want to punch Nico in the face for his insensitive ways.
“But I’m of legal age. I don’t have to do anything.”
I sigh and give her knee a squeeze. She’s going to learn. In order to survive, she has to.
“The only thing your age means is that you’re ready to be married, Angel. Your life, as you know it, is over. You are going to be protected and paraded around until my father can marry you off to whoever presents the best advantage for the family. That is your only purpose. Accept it, or don’t. There’s no escaping it.”