CHAPTER 4
“I’m all in, though I don’t exactly know how I can help you,” Richard was the first to break the silence after his father’s words. “I…I mean, I don’t know a lot, but I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you, son,” Umberto said with a warm smile. “You know more useful things than you realize, and I know I can count on you to learn what you haven't yet. We’ll have a private talk after dinner.”
“Dad, how desperate is the situation that you’re so pleased with this total waste of space’s offer to help? What little he knows could possibly be so useful to you?” Sarcasm, disbelief, and a touch of irritation seeped into Chadwick’s voice as he spoke.
“History, philosophy, political science, and a thousand other things I’ll need to learn when the time comes to claim my birthright.
Unlike you, who wasted your youth on parties, sleeping with countless women who weren’t your wife, and living a parasite’s life, your brother here devoted his time to something truly useful: reading. ”
His father’s sermon made Chadwick boil with anger, but he ignored the man’s toxic words, focusing only on those that caught his attention. “Your…birthright? What are you talking about?”
Umberto cleared his throat and glanced around the room again. “I’m Don Gioachino Sforza’s firstborn and the one entitled to inherit almost all of his fortune.”
“Fortune?” Lincoln, Allegra’s husband, interrupted the discussion for the first time. “Who’s this Don Gioachino?”
“You mean we are the descendants of that famous Italian noble family, with roots going back to the times of the Knights Templar?” Richard let out a gasp of shock. “One of the most powerful of the Grand Families forming the Old-World Mafia?”
Umberto nodded, his expression one of paternal pride. “The one and only, son! I must confess I’m very pleased with you. I knew you would be helpful, but I had no idea you already knew so much about our family’s history.”
“Thank you, I... um... I’ve become really interested in the history and traditions of the Old-World Mafia over the past year.
I can’t quite explain why,” Richard said, blushing under his father’s approving gaze.
“For instance, did you know they have their own legal system and moral code that they follow religiously?”
“Oh, come on, stop bragging now, or else we won’t be getting to eat tonight,” Chadwick abruptly cut off the flood of stories his younger brother was sharing with everyone at the table. “Think about our poor mother, who must be starving while you’re showing off here.”
“Although he didn’t phrase it perfectly, I think your brother is right this time,” Umberto said to Richard, his voice calm and almost warm, the same tone he had used with his youngest child since the start of their conversation.
He turned to the housekeeper, who waited in the doorway.
“Carmela, will you please tell my wife she can join us? Thank you.”
The woman nodded and left. A few minutes later, Vanessa Ronson entered the dining room, standing tall and proud, then took her seat at the opposite end of the table.
Like Umberto, she surveyed the small group, her eyes shining with affection whenever they fell on Chadwick, her favorite, and a gentle smile on her lips.
However, it quickly disappeared, and the light in her eyes dimmed as she saw the gloomy expression on her older son’s face. His father must have humiliated him again, one way or another, Vanessa thought, her heart aching for Chadwick, whom she considered the most unfortunate of her three children.
It wasn’t his fault that his first wife didn’t try hard enough to give him a male heir; the poor thing had to divorce her after she gave birth to the second girl, so he could marry someone who could give him the son he desperately wanted.
And it certainly wasn’t his fault that the ungrateful woman bore a son with another man.
Of course, it wasn’t Chadwick’s fault that, after two unhappy and unlucky marriages, he swore off love and settled for one-night stands and time with his brother-in-law, who was neglected by his wife.
The two of them understood what it was like to be abandoned by the person who was supposed to be there for them and what it felt like to be alone even when surrounded by many people.
And above all, it wasn’t Chadwick’s fault that his father chose to put Allegra in charge of the media company.
Her ideas were always heard, her advice followed, and her strategies put into action, while her brother was ignored, no matter what he said.
With his father constantly neglecting him, it’s no wonder the poor boy gave up attending board meetings, even those where his presence was required.
Chadwick, who by then was devouring the food as if there were no tomorrow, lifted his head from the plate and met Vanessa’s eyes, which held a mix of motherly affection and sympathy.
Poor mom, she’s the only one who really cares whether I’m alive or dead, he thought, his heart filled with bitterness and resentment toward the other members of his family, including his father.
Lowering his head again so his family couldn’t see the frown creasing his forehead, Chadwick wondered why his father had invited Lincoln to the family dinner.
Was it because the old man had found out about their clandestine, forbidden affair?
No, he shook his head; he would have ordered that dog of his, Ortega, to shoot them both by now.
Could it be that he knows about my friendship with Two Pence and the group of crackheads around him? Or about the small, discreet money-laundering operation Linc and I are involved in? It can’t be that either, since we covered our tracks very well. Maybe it’s our hit-and-run Bitcoin transaction.
Suddenly, a thought crossed Chadwick’s mind, and he fought hard to hide the triumphant smile forming on his lips.
That old fox knows everything except that Linc and I are as close as it gets, and he wants us to use our underground connections to help him in his crusade against the Sforza family.
If that’s the case, sissy dearest and the whiny little brat will soon see who’s truly the most useful of us all.
************
An affectionate smile softened his features and lit his dark brown, almost black eyes. Feared by many but loved by his husband and two companions, Ottavio gazed at the three babies sleeping in their cribs. It was a sight he never grew tired of in the four months since they were born.
I can’t believe how fast the time has gone by, the man thought, running a hand over his face and slowly shaking his head.
The fatherly affection on his face was tinged with disbelief.
They were so tiny when we brought them home, and look at them now—how big and strong they've become.
Not to mention, their personalities have already begun to develop, he continued in his internal monologue.
Indeed, the baby girl, named Ana-Adelina after Ottavio’s grandmother, had the sweetest smile her father had ever seen, but she also pouted the most when she didn’t get what she wanted immediately.
A true Sforza, Ives laughed the first time he noticed that, but he was also an O’Sullivan: demanding and charming at the same time.
One of the boys was very quiet, crying only once in a while, which sometimes worried his fathers to no end.
At this age, crying was the only means of communication the babies used to express their feelings and needs, so the two men didn’t always know when the little one was hungry, thirsty, scared, or sick.
However, they took the advice of the more experienced parents in their circle and checked on him more often.
While Ottavio had the privilege of naming their baby daughter, it was all of them who decided on the boys’ names: Massimiliano-Patrizio for the quiet one, and Vittorio-Vincenzo for his brother, who was his complete opposite.
Playful and lively, he was always eager to explore the world beyond the nursery, letting out sharp sounds of excitement every time his fathers took him downstairs or into the garden.
Sleep tight, my darlings, Ottavio whispered as he headed to the door, tucking the blanket around Ana-Adelina’s small frame.
He paused, turned back, and took another look at the three babies sleeping peacefully, then quietly stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him, careful not to make any noise that could wake his children.
In the master bedroom across the hall, Ives, Ivy, and Poisoned Ivy were already asleep, exhausted.
As he climbed onto the bed and slid under the covers, Ottavio let out a soft sigh of contentment at their peaceful expressions.
Yet he also felt a pang of guilt in his chest at the thought of them taking care of the children alone that day while he was away at a long business meeting.
Ottavio silently promised himself he’d make it up to them tomorrow, kissing his lovers’ temple and wrapping an arm around the slender body they shared.
I’ll do all the work while they relax or do the things they enjoy most. The man grinned, knowing the three wouldn’t let him carry out his plan; they simply couldn’t stay arms crossed all day without getting involved in feeding and changing the small bundles of joy.
Hugging his loved ones’ sleeping form to his chest, Ottavio took a brief walk down memory lane, recalling how six months after they married, Ives asked him what he thought of the male pregnancy treatment.
When he hesitated, his husband said that becoming a father by carrying the children of the man he loved was one of his greatest dreams.
The next day, Ottavio and Ives were in the office of one of New York City's leading experts on male pregnancy, discussing the risks and benefits of all available treatment options.
The doctor gave them a few days to process the information, decide which option was best for the future bearer, and then return with their final choice.
Five months later, Ives was flaunting his positive pregnancy test to his group of friends, and Ivy shared his enthusiasm.
Poisoned Ivy, on the other hand, although not opposed to the idea of carrying, for the first time sided with Ottavio, whose immense joy was overshadowed by worries about things that could go wrong, such as a miscarriage or other health problems.
However, the two husbands felt the pregnancy test alone wasn’t enough, so they returned to the clinic and requested a comprehensive set of blood tests.
The first couple of weeks after the initial result was confirmed were the hardest of Ottavio’s life, a whirlwind of emotions he had never experienced before.
He was worried about Ives, Ivy, and Poisoned Ivy’s lives and health, as well as the babies’.
He doubted he was cut out to be a father and was constantly anxious, fearing that nothing he did or said would be right.
The man had a thousand questions in his mind, all unanswered, and felt overwhelmed by their weight.
But just when Ottavio was on the verge of a breakdown, he remembered he wasn’t alone and did what he should have done years earlier: talk. The man who kept everything to himself, thinking he could handle all his problems alone, picked up the phone and started dialing.
Brian, Bart, Luca, Martino, Stephanie, Damien-Vincent—all of them were on the other end of the line whenever Ottavio needed advice, encouragement, answers to his many questions, or simply someone to listen. Whether it was midday or the middle of the night, his calls were always answered.
With each conversation he had with someone in his support network, Ottavio learned a valuable lesson about fatherhood, friendship, understanding, and support.
When his children arrived, he welcomed them, prepared not only to be their father in every sense of the word but also to give Ives and his friends all his love and support.