4. Inked for Life
FOUR
Inked for Life
MILANA
W ithin twenty-four hours, my life has changed drastically. When Julian left the bedroom, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen to me. When he came back and told me that Raffaele took the deal, I was supposed to feel relieved, and I was to a certain extent. Then, I began to think about all that was about to happen. I’ll be leaving the place that has been my refuge.
I don’t have the right to ask, but I do it anyway and beg to see Barry one last time. I don’t want to leave him wondering what had happened to me. I wish I could take him with me, but that wouldn’t be possible, and he would never leave this place anyhow.
I’m surprised when Julian agrees. After heading back to my small, run-down apartment complex, we go to look for Barry. Julian and I are accompanied by his friend Niccolo, who I find out is also Alessio’s consigliere, along with several other men.
“Leave everything except what you really need,” Julian says. I don’t have much anyway. I stow a couple of pairs of jeans and T-shirts, a few more sweaters, and a couple of personal mementos I’ve picked up in a bag.
“I need to let the landlord know I won’t be back,” I tell Julian.
“I’ll handle it,” Niccolo replies, then sets off to find him.
Next stop is to look for Barry. It doesn’t take long. He’s waiting for me at our spot. He’s relieved to see me until he sees Julian and the men with us. He’s on the brink of flight or fight until I call out to him.
“These are friends, Barry. Please don’t run. I promise they won’t hurt you. Actually, you gave them some great information, and they’re so grateful, they wanted to say hello and thank you personally,” I say. Barry quickly comes to greet me, pulling me in for a tight hug.
“I was worried,” Barry says.
“I’m okay.” I pat his cheek.
Julian sticks out his hand. “I’m Julian. I want to thank you for looking after Milana.” Barry looks confused until Julian says, “I mean Linny.”
Barry smiles huge, showing off his teeth. Considering Barry spends a lot of time on the streets, he’s in great shape. His hair is far too long, and he could use a haircut, but he still eats well enough to have good teeth, and he takes odd jobs and does physical work that keeps his body moving. He’s not as tall as Julian, and he’s definitely much thinner than Julian, but he could be a handsome older man if he took care of himself.
“Linny’s a good girl. She was crazy scared, but begged me to help her get you out. She’s a good girl,” Barry says.
”I’m grateful to both of you. I want to show you my gratitude. Will you let me do that?” Julian asks. Barry looks at the men standing around us, then at me. I nod to him, hoping he’ll accept.
“Linny’s okay. I’m happy,” Barry says.
“Then can I ask a favor?” Julian asks.
“Sure.” Barry shrugs.
“I need Linny to come back home with me. I could use her help. She’s worried about her apartment and wants to be able to see you regularly, and she’s going to want you to visit us. Will you look after her apartment for us? We need someone to keep it clean and fix it up. It’s not much money, but it would really make Linny happy.”
I want to cry. Julian isn’t doing this for a man he doesn’t know. He’s doing this for me. I squeeze his hand, but keep looking at Barry, willing him to say yes. When he does, I jump for joy. We go to the coffee shop close by, where Julian gives him the keys to my apartment, and they chat like old friends.
* * *
N ow, we’re on a private plane with Alessio and Niccolo, both of whom are deep in conversation about the goings-on back home in Las Vegas. Julian is on his phone, sitting across from me. He called his parents and told them what had transpired. His mother has been blowing up his phone sending texts and emails to know more.
“Expect my parents to be at the airport,” he mumbles in frustration. “She’s going to make this wedding into something big. And you should know that Niccolo is married to my sister, Valentina, and I have a younger brother, Fausto. I had an older brother, but he was killed,” he grumbles.
“I’m so sorry to hear about your brother. I don’t think it’s wise to have a huge affair either,” I say, agreeing with him.
“You’re wrong,” Alessio jumps in. “It’s necessary. If you want acceptance, we won’t move forward if we act like this is a dirty little secret. You’ll have a normal wedding, and I’ll give you away. My people need to know that I endorse this marriage.”
Well, so much for running to a justice of the peace. Julian doesn’t seem happy about this either, but we both know better than to argue.
“My mother has set up the guest room for you. Since it’s inappropriate for us to live under the same roof before marriage, I’ll stay at my apartment in the city. You’ll have a guard with you at all times when you leave the house. Dad is an underboss and Mom could be a likely target, and now you will be as well,” Julian says. Even though Julian clarified his reasons, I know I’m being guarded because he doesn’t trust me. I can’t say I blame him. Given the risk he’s taking in marrying me, it would be a slap in the face if I disappeared. I have no intention of abandoning Julian. Marriage isn’t what I expected or ever thought about. It was a luxury that wasn’t to be. Any man I would have gotten involved with would have ended up a target if I were ever found.
“I’ll do exactly what you need me to do. I won’t give you any trouble,” I tell him. “Will we live in your apartment, then?”
“For a while, until I find a house,” Julian replies.
“I’ve arranged for a tattoo artist to meet us at my home the day after next. Niccolo, your brother, and I will bear witness that Milana has taken the vow and is branded with our family crest. I suggest the wedding occur no later than three weeks from today,” Alessio says as he takes his seat and fastens his seat belt. Niccolo does the same.
“Josephine and Valentina are going to want to get to know you. Especially Valentina, considering she’ll be your sister-in-law. Our wives are the kind to think the best of people. They’ll give you every opportunity to become their friend. Do not disappoint them,” Niccolo adds.
“I won’t, but when they know where I come from, they may not feel too inclined to meet me,” I say.
“My wife has a soft heart. She’s too good, too kind, and too forgiving. She’ll greet you with open arms,” Alessio says. “Let me be perfectly clear. You fuck this up, and I’ll end you. The only reason I let this happen is because you saved Julian. He means something to me. I don’t say that about many people, but he’s proven himself time and time again. Julian believes in you. Don’t screw this up.” He turns to face the front, telling me that our conversation is over.
* * *
Julian
W hen the plane lands, Alessio and Niccolo get into one vehicle and are whisked off immediately. My parents are waiting for us, but it takes me longer to get down the steps of the plane. Milana has an arm around my waist to give extra support, and two other soldiers are waiting at the base of the plane to gather our things.
Fausto sees Milana and me and hurries to give us a hand. He meets us halfway up the steps. “I got him. You go in front of us,” Fausto says. Then he gives her a warm grin. “By the way, I’m the smarter, more handsome, younger brother.” Milana returns his smile.
“Stop flirting with my fiancée, asshole,” I tease. “Smarter. Don’t make me fucking laugh. It hurts like fuck to laugh.”
“I wish I had been with you. I wanted a piece of them,” Fausto grumbles. “I should have been there.”
“Niccolo made them pay. I hear it was a bloodbath, and Niccolo came back covered in spilled Russian blood. It was Milana who got word to us where they were hiding,” Julian tells him.
”Right on! It’s good you’re on our side,” Fausto jokes.
When we get to the bottom, I can see my father struggling to keep my mother in the car. It’s a battle he loses as Mom barrels out of the back seat and comes racing toward us. Mom doesn’t look her age, and although she’s nearing sixty, she still has a youthful appearance. Mom has shoulder-length dark hair and dark brown eyes. That’s where I get mine. She’s tall, but compared to the men in the family, petite and curvy and dresses to impress. She’s wearing designer jeans and a crisp white shirt, her chunky necklace and bracelet jingling as she runs in her platform heels.
I may have Mom’s coloring, but I have my father’s physical structure. Dad still works out hard and is as sharp as they come. His hair and eyes are lighter, but I got my height and bone structure from his side of the family. Dad waits by the car and watches his wife race to us, raising his eyes to the heavens. He acts like it bugs him, and Dad isn’t much for public displays of affection, but I know he loves my mother. It wasn’t an instant love connection. They were matched by their parents, but through the years, they’ve become inseparable. They raised three boys and a girl and together and built a good life. When my older brother, Joe Jr., was killed, our family was devastated. My father carried on, but was broken on the inside. My mother went into a deep depression, and I think it was Dad’s love that brought her back to us.
Mom approaches me first, cupping my cheeks with her hands. “My boy, what have they done to you?” She smooths a hand over the healing cuts on my face.
“I’m fine, Ma,” I say gently. I reach out and take Milana’s hand. “This is Milana.” I haven’t spoken to my mother directly about how Milana came to become my fiancée, but I’m sure Dad’s told her.
I can feel Milana’s hand trembling in mine as my mother turns to face her. “Hello, Mrs. Fontana. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Milana says, her voice shaky.
Mom takes the hand Milana is holding out and holds it gently. “My husband tells me that if it weren’t for your bravery, my Julian would not have come home to me. Thank you, my girl.” Milana sucks in a breath, choking back tears. “This must all be very overwhelming for you. Come,” my mother says as she guides Milana to the car. “Let’s get you settled at home, and we can get to know each other.”
“That went well,” Fausto says. “Dad told Mom and me everything. I don’t give a shit what her father did. All I care about is what happens moving forward.”
“Thanks. I hope Dad feels the same.” I sigh, meeting my father’s gaze, which gives away nothing. It’s always been a mystery to me how Dad can keep the same aloof expression on his face during the most aggravating times. He seemed to understand when I explained what went down with Milana and why I offered marriage, but I’m sure he had different plans for me. I just hope he’s not too disappointed in my decision.
I finally make it to the car. “Dad.” I look into his face. He pulls me in for a tight, manly embrace, being careful not to crush me, and I hear his low, deep voice by my ear.
“Good to have you home, son,” he says.
* * *
T wo days later…
As I wait for Milana to come downstairs, I reflect on the last couple of days. Milana has settled into the guest room, and the first thing Mom did was take her shopping along with Valentina. Mom knows what’s expected of an underboss’s wife, and dressing and acting the part is essential. When they came back from a day of extensive retail therapy, Mom looked over-the-moon happy, while Milana looked miserable.
Dad insists on having me picked up every day and brought to his place until I’m fully recovered. Therefore, when I saw Milana looking so disheartened, I pulled her aside.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her. I’ve never been one to beat around the bush. I just don’t have time for it.
It seems that Milana has the same idea. She expressed her apprehension immediately. “I don’t have the money to pay for all this. Your mom shouldn’t be buying my clothes. And tomorrow, she wants to go wedding dress shopping. How am I going to pay her back? I can’t get a job. I know you won’t let me, and she won’t let me clean the house to work it off, because I asked. She was horrified, by the way, when I did ask.”
“That’s it? You’re worried about who’s paying for what?” I asked incredulously.
“It’s a big deal,” she insisted.
“I’ll pay for the clothes and anything else you need. You can clean my house starting the day we’re married. And you’re right, you can’t get a job. I’m not in a position where I can afford to have a man standing by your side while you work. Once you get settled, if you want to volunteer somewhere a couple of days a week, I’ll make arrangements,” I told her.
“I–I can go out?”
“You’re not a prisoner. You’ll be my wife. I expect you to act and behave accordingly. That doesn’t mean I won’t be watching, and I’ve already stressed what will happen if you cross me. Just don’t make me regret my decision.”
“I hate shopping,” she said quietly.
“Oh yeah? I thought it was a woman’s favorite pastime,” I teased.
She rewarded me with a shy smile. “Not this one. But don’t tell your mom.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
No long after our chat, Dad and Fausto are out in the car waiting while I hear my mother fussing and chatting with Milana at the top of the stairs.
“It won’t be too bad. I don’t understand why they have to go through this pagan ritual of tattooing, but if Alessio insists, then it must be done,” she huffs. My mother is growing fond of Milana. I know that Mom is beginning to care for Milana as one of her own. She’s even gone to the lengths of setting up appointments to see houses for sale in the area to keep us close.
“It’s understandable. Alessio has every right to be cautious. When I found out my father was a traitor and was pawning me off to the enemy, I was young, and I couldn’t think of anything other than how to stay alive. I was convinced Marco would kill me too. But that meant I didn’t trust him, so why would Alessio trust me? Trust is earned, and I have to show him that I’ll serve Il Destino faithfully,” I hear Milana say from the top of the stairs.
My chest swells with pride, but we can’t put this off any longer. “Milana, we have to go. Alessio’s waiting for us.”
She appears at the top of the stairs and gives my mother a quick peck on the cheek. “It’ll be okay,” Mom tells her.
We arrive at Alessio’s house, where Josephine comes to meet us with her son, Nico, on her hip.
“Hello, Julian. And you must be Milana. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” Josie says, straining to keep Nico close to her as he’s clawing to get to me.
“Juju,” Nico shouts gleefully.
I reach out to take him in my arms. “Hey, little man. You being good for Mama?” He slaps my cheeks playfully. Dad and Fausto exchange pleasantries with Josie and go off into the den, where Alessio is waiting.
“Josephine, you can talk all you want later. We need to get this done,” I hear Alessio bark. A second later, he appears wearing a stern expression. “Let’s get this done. I’ve got shit to do.”
“Alessio, language!” Josie exclaims. He walks right up to his wife and plants a hard kiss on her mouth.
“Babe, he doesn’t understand shit yet. I think we’re good,” he says. Alessio’s right. And I wonder how Josie’s going to deal with it when Nico is formally inducted into Il Destino . Josie was born into this life, and she’s seen more ugliness than most. Her first husband beat her relentlessly, but that was only after her father did the same as she was growing up. It’s never been spoken of, but it’s been said that Alessio disposed of Josie’s husband to save her from his constant abuse. Alessio then discovered that her father was going to force her to marry a man over twice her age who was known to be brutal. Josephine couldn’t take it anymore and showed up at Alessio’s house and begged him for death.
Their story is long and complicated, and in the Mafia world, women have to be resilient because they never know what will come next.
I hand Nico back to his mother and guide Milana into the den, with Alessio leading the way. There’s a table set up with Franco, a tall, swarthy artist we use for all our tattoos, at the far end of the room. Franco’s been a good friend to me over the years. Women flock to him like bears to honey. He looks like a model who just walked off the runway. I call him an artist because he is just that. I have his work inked on me, and I’m in awe of how he seems to bring to life the designs we collaborate on.
Franco walks up and smiles at Milana. Despite the dark ink covering his neck, arms, and hands, he’s got kind, deep-blue eyes. “I’ll try to make this as quick as possible. I won’t say painless because I won’t lie to you. It’s going to sting.”
“I’ll be fine,” she replies.
“Here are some designs that I came up with. Take a look, and we’ll get started,” Franco says.
Milana turns to me and says, “You choose.”
I scan through the designs and see one with the Il Destino dagger surrounded by thorns, but the thorn tips are wrapped in a vine with tiny flowers in rose pink and white. “This one.”
“Shoulder? Thigh? Hip?” he asks.
“Shoulder,” I respond, not wanting anyone to see more of Milana than is necessary.
“Wedding dress,” Milana whispers, reminding me that with the strapless gown she and Mom chose, the fresh tattoo would be on display for all to see. She points to her hip and pulls down her tights a little. “How about here?”
“It’s going to hurt like hell there,” I advise her.
“I can take it.” Her chin juts out with pride.
Franco says, “We can take breaks if it gets to be too much.”
A couple of hours later, the ink comes to life on her creamy white skin. Milana never once asked for a break. I made Franco stop a couple of times, wanting to make sure that Milana stayed hydrated and giving her a bottle of water. Her face contorted with pain, but she powered through without a word. It’s not a huge tattoo, but it covers a good deal of her hip. Along with the Il Destino dagger, Franco finished with swirly, girly lettering, my name etched on her, and the greatest feeling of satisfaction comes over me. I was firmly against this from the start, but seeing my name on her body makes her mine in a way I can’t describe.
“Done. Let me clean that up and bandage it properly,” Franco says. He gives us instructions on how to keep it clean and how often to change the bandage. It’s nothing that I don’t know, but I see that Milana is listening attentively, nodding and asking questions.
Alessio pulls me aside and asks, “Are you fully healed?”
“I’m fit to fight whenever you need me.”
Alessio smirks. “No fighting for another week at least. Tomorrow, I’m gathering several of the underbosses and would like them to be present for the blood ritual.”
“We’ll both be ready.”
“We’ll do it at the club. Prepare Milana for her vow of loyalty to the family. Once this is finished, it will set many minds at ease,” Alessio says. “I’ve forwarded the list of guests that must be present at the wedding. I’ve included the Viale, Moretti, and Di Morte families. I trust your mother and Milana have secured the reception venue and church?”
“It’s done,” I tell him. “Milana doesn’t have any family, nor is she close to anyone here. I would like to encourage her to ask Josephine to be her matron of honor, with your permission, of course. My brother Fausto will be my best man. We know this is a very small wedding party, but I think it gives it an air of dignity and makes it more personal.”
“That works,” he agrees, making me feel a lot better. Milana was stressing about this, and this makes it a whole lot easier. “I’ll make arrangements to have Milana brought over to spend time with Josie and Valentina.”
“Thanks. I think Milana needs a break from my mother’s wedding planning,” I joke.
He chuckles.
Milana comes over with a huge smile. “I did it, and it’s beautiful,” she says. “I’m inked for life with Il Destino. ” She giggles, and I laugh at how well she’s taking this all. Even Alessio gives her a grin.
”You did well,” he comments. It’s a simple compliment with more meaning behind it than would appear.