CHAPTER 4
Luna
Dinner. Of course. I’ve been on edge all day, waiting for him to come and find me or call me to his study. I should have guessed.
Since Mama died, we’ve had dinner together every night that Papa wasn’t out working or traveling.
He’s not a loving man, but he’s not cruel.
To me, anyway. He’s the don, first and foremost. I love and respect that about him, even if it meant we never had a close relationship.
Dinner every night is how he tried to connect with me.
The older he gets, the more nights he spends at home.
At seven sharp, I take my place at the long table, sitting right next to my father’s spot at the head.
Often we have guests with us, capos and their wives or business contacts and their families.
Not tonight.
A few minutes and many sips into my first glass of wine later, Papa joins me.
I watch him walk in and sit down, seeming slower and smaller than usual.
He’s still an intimidating man, striking with shiny dark hair, strong facial features, and near-black eyes.
I inherited all three of those traits from him.
He has a threatening air about him, a seriousness.
I inherited that too, though he may not know it.
“Principessa, how was your day?” He starts.
“Good, Papa. Yours?” I reply. It’s a script we’ve shared since I was young.
“Good, good.” Everything is good before we start eating. Then after about ten quiet minutes the real discussion begins about my grades when I was young, or usually now about some upcoming event I need to go to and why it’s important. Like clockwork…
“Listen, mia figlia, I have some news.” He straightens and looks at me, with an unusual expression. He lifts a brow, waiting. Waiting for what?
“You do?” I feign ignorance.
He smiles a small smile. “We knew this time would come. It’s time for you to marry, Luna.”
“Ah,” I try to keep my voice calm and my face neutral. “I have some news for you too, then, Papa, because—”
“It’s not going to be Bosco, Luna.” His tone is firm as he cuts me off. My mouth hangs open, all my calm vanishing. I did not expect him to say that, and his tone, his expression…everything is off. “I know what you wanted. Honestly, after all this time I thought you knew that I knew.”
“Kn-knew wh—” I hear myself stammering and hate myself for it.
“No one does that much pilates, sweetheart.” Pilates?
Wait…“Your secret combat instructor. Years of martial arts, fencing, knives. Hours at the gun range.” The food in my stomach sours as he continues.
“You really didn’t think I knew what you were doing?
Really thought your bodyguards were that dumb?
That bad at their jobs?” He’s almost smiling, almost laughing down at me from his tall, overstuffed dining chair and for the first time maybe ever, I hate him a little bit. But his features soften.
“Come now, Luna. You are smart. Smarter than anyone gives you credit for. In all your eavesdropping and spying and acting, you never wondered how your old man could be so blind to you?”
Eavesdropping.
Spying.
Acting.
I’m going to vomit right now at the table.
“You told me, you know. I think you were about six the first time. You climbed up on my lap and said ‘Papa, I’m taking over for you someday.’ And I just laughed then.
But you said it again at twelve maybe. At that point, you’d already set your sights on Bosco, and it was when I told you no.
” He sits back and looks across the room like he’s watching a memory.
“Your little face wasn’t sad or surprised or angry.
It was just, defiant. Such determination.
I was so damn proud.” His wistful expression falls away.
“But I see now I let it go on too long, your fantasies.”
“P-Papa,” I start, trying to regain some control.
“You’re still just a girl, Luna.”
“I’m twenty-four!” I almost shout, finally finding my wits. Or what’s left of them.
“A girl,” he says, his tone changing. He’s transitioning now from Father to Boss.
He doesn’t normally use this voice with me.
It makes a chill run up my spine and all over my skin.
“Even so, even as the smartest, strongest, bravest girl that this family has ever seen, Luna, your place is not here.” He hits his hands on the padded armrests beneath him.
“Not my seat. Not the seat. It’s my fault.
” He huffs, shaking his head in exasperation.
“I let you forget your place. Let you dream and plot. I should have been preparing you for your true future. Maybe if your mama had been here to prepare you…” He trails off.
It’s rare that he mentions her, and we both freeze for a moment. Then I seize the opportunity.
“I am prepared Papa, I—”
“No, not like you should be. Your greatest task for this family, your highest calling, is to offer yourself in partnership.” I choke on the air barely moving through my lungs.
He eyes me. “You think there is no honor in that, huh? Is that beneath you? To offer yourself up as a wife? You’re wrong.
You’re not seeing the truth of it. You will bring us prestige, power, connections.
You, Luna, you singlehandedly take our family to the next level. ”
I can feel my eyes burning and my head shaking, but I’m not in control of myself now. The shock and disappointment have taken over. This is too much.
“I was proud that day when you were twelve, filled with resolve, and I’m proud now, knowing you will do the right thing and accept this arrangement.”
I close my eyes and exhale. “But—”
He cuts me off again, as if the conversation hasn’t destroyed me enough already. I can’t even respond. “No. There is no but. Do you know why I chose Bosco as my successor?”
“Because he has a penis.” I mutter as a tear escapes, unable to stop myself.
My father dips his chin and pulls his brows down, he exhales a warning grunt that shuts me right up.
He goes on, “The men love him. Love him. Since he was young, people were drawn to him. Followed him as he followed me. I could tell Bosco to tell the men to start killing each other off. Without explanation. One by one, they’d salute that fucker with a smile on their face and start pulling triggers.
You cannot teach that kind of magnetism.
He was born with it. More so than Zeno or any of your cousins coming up.
I am training him to be me and the hundreds of men in our ranks, they will follow him.
” He puts an elbow on the table and lowers himself to meet me eye to eye. “They will never follow a woman.”
Breathe. Just breathe.
I calm myself so I don’t sob or scream or spew up my food. Or say the wrong thing. Though I’m not sure what the right thing is, not anymore. I think through everything he’s just said.
I sit up straight in my chair.
“I…think you’re wrong.” My voice is steady even as he scoffs.
I don’t give him a chance to interject. “I think they would follow the right woman. I’m not just some girl, Papa, I’m your daughter.
I’m your heir! And you know, apparently, how much I know, how much I’ve studied and trained.
I know the product, the routes, the numbers.
So the men follow Bosco? Fine. Bosco can follow me. ”
“Enough of this.” He slams his hands down on the edge of the thick wood table.
“No red-blooded made man would follow a woman, heir or not. We do not need you to lead, Luna. We need you to expand our reach into the north. Shut down the unrest. We need you to put on his ring and go to his bed and wake up to a world where the Mancini reach is just as big as the Delgado’s. ”
I feel my face scrunch in obvious confusion. “North…”
“Yes.” Papa stands and tosses down his napkin. “End of discussion. You will get yourself and your things in order and in one month’s time you will marry us to the Irish.”
“The Irish? Who?”
“Their don. Quinn.”
Quinn.
QUINN?!
I turn quickly so that I throw up on the marble floor and not the table.
This is worse than any nightmare I could’ve planned for. Worse than a spineless capo or a crusty old businessman. Worse than an assassin or a mob inquisitor who gets off on torture. All of those are nothing compared to the actual psychopath that runs Boston and the rest of the Northeast.
I throw up again.
I’m engaged to evil itself.