Chapter 16
Jude
Twenty-three years old
Lord Victor Crane is one of—if not the— deadliest mob bosses in all of England, but you wouldn’t know it by the look of him.
At first glance, he appears like any other English lord featured in the high society pages. From the centuries-old Georgian manor that he calls home to his stylishly tailored tweed suits and brown loafers, Victor goes to great lengths to embody the front of a poshly refined gentleman whose behavior aligns with the highest standards of propriety.
You would assume that a man whose lineage is a few steps away from royalty would be stern and unapproachable. However, after five minutes in his presence, you would quickly learn that appearances can be deceiving—in more ways than one.
Always quick to smile, Victor is as down-to-earth as they come. With his ample belly and long, white beard that fails to cover his rosy cheeks, he looks more like a jolly animated version of Santa Claus than a mob boss. And that is what makes him so lethal.
You wouldn’t expect a man who looks like he spends his days wrapping presents for all the good little boys and girls to slit your throat with unfazed ease. But I’ve seen firsthand how his sophisticated I and easy-going demeanor can turn on a dime if provoked. And though that realization may be terrifying to some, it has been highly educational to me.
Alongside Felix, Victor has become the tutor I always imagined my father would be one day.
But alas, Vincent Amato Romano has no intention of welcoming me into the underground world of the Chicago syndicate, much less teaching me the ropes.
And that’s all thanks to my mother, the red queen herself—Selene Bianchi Romano. Her word is law, as far as my father is concerned. And as long as my overly protective mother insists on me not being inducted into the family business, that’s the way it will remain.
Hence the reason for fleeing to London under the guise of attending university to complete my business degree, away from my family’s tight chokehold. Here, I was finally able to learn everything I needed to become my mother’s worst fear—a made man. And I owe my tutelage and my gratitude to Victor Crane.
“You wanted to see me?” I ask after stepping into Victor’s office. I’m instantly greeted by the trophies of his hunts—heads of mighty stags and other game—all proudly mounted around the room’s walls. Every time I walk into Victor’s office, I can’t shake the feeling that if he could, he would instead decorate the room with the heads of his enemies without batting an eye. But since that isn’t becoming of a gentleman, he has to content himself with exhibiting kills more befitting of his station.
The only other thing that speaks to Victor’s darker inclinations is the heavy, mahogany furniture that fills the room, from the massive desk he currently sits behind to the bookshelves lined with leather-bound tomes and ledgers that chronicle the long and bloody history of the Crane empire.
“Take a seat, Jude,” he orders with an uncharacteristic somber tone.
I do as he says and don’t question his serious mood. It’s obvious that I’m talking to the head of the Crane Firm right now and not the man who took me under his wing when I first arrived in London four years ago.
I sit on the brown leather couch facing his desk and stretch my arms out wide, letting them hang on either side. I don’t want to disrespect my host and tutor, but I also don’t want him to think he has the authority to order me around either. If I’m to live up to my birthright, I must ensure that no boss from any other family believes they can issue out orders to me and expect my full compliance, Crane included.
Thankfully, he doesn’t seem annoyed by my nonchalance, too preoccupied with whatever is causing the lines to his forehead to be more prominent. Without saying a word, Victor rises from behind his desk, walks over to the bar trolley, and pours two generous servings of gin into two glasses before handing one to me.
I grab the glass and take a mild sip while Victor slugs the clear liquid down in one gulp.
He’s upset.
He only drinks like this when something is troubling him.
While patience has never been my strong suit, I decide to hold my tongue and wait for him to share his thoughts. Still, I have this nagging suspicion that somehow my father is behind Victor’s foul temperament. After all, I’m the only one he specifically requested to see him in his office after a day’s work.
“Vincent called me today,” he finally confirms, placing the empty glass on his desk as he leans against its edge.
And there it is. Now it makes sense why he’s so riled up. My father has that effect on people.
“I take it the phone call didn’t go well,” I retort whimsically after a long pause.
Victor doesn’t so much as crack a smile.
“He’s asked me to persuade you to go home for the holidays.”
“Asked or ordered?” I cock a brow.
His lips twitch into a grin, and he replies, “With your father, it’s always a combination of both.”
“I see,” I grumble, not liking where this conversation is going. “So, are you going to do what he asked? ”
“I told him that I would convey the message but that I’d leave it up to you to decide.”
“Let me guess? My father wasn’t happy with that reply?”
“No. No, he was not.” Victor shakes his head solemnly.
Fuck.
I can only imagine what my father must have said to Victor. Though my loyalties will always lie with my family, I don’t appreciate my father trying to intimidate another boss just to get me to bend to his will, especially when it makes me look like an unruly child in the eyes of my mentor—and Mina’s father.
“I apologize for anything he might have said that could have offended you.”
“For your sake, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” he cuts me off. “Your father wouldn’t appreciate you apologizing for another man’s poor behavior. Especially his.” My jaw ticks at the light reprimand, but I note it for future reference anyway. “Tell me this, Jude. Do you want to go home?” he asks me inquisitively.
Home. What a loaded word that is. I do want to go home. Though I might have a bone to pick with my parents for treating me like a child, I miss my brothers and sisters terribly, not to mention my adoptive fathers, Giovanni and Dominic.
I can’t deny that there is a big part of me that yearns for home.
A part that aches to be back in Chicago.
But as long as my father refuses to initiate me into the famiglia , going home is not an option.
This life… it’s all I’ve ever wanted.
It’s what I was born for.
So, until Selene and Vincent give me what I want, I will stay in London until I get my point across.
Is that the only reason you don’t want to leave?
Or is it the idea of leaving Mina behind that is coloring your reasoning?
When I don’t reply to either Crane or my inner thoughts, Victor pours himself another gin and then sits beside me on the couch.
“A son shouldn’t resent his father as much as you resent yours. It’s not healthy.”
“I don’t resent Vincent.”
“Right, because every son treats his father by his Christian name,” he jokes, taking a swig from his glass.
I crack my neck from side to side, feeling the build-up tension starting to weigh on my shoulders.
“I just want him to initiate me. It’s my birthright. I’m entitled to it.”
“And you still believe that he won’t?”
“I’m twenty-three years old, Victor. Twenty-four in a couple of months. Most take the oath of the omertà when they turn eighteen. I’m well past my prime.”
“I wouldn’t say that. It’s not unheard of for made men to be inducted well into their twenties.”
“Not one that is supposed to become Capo dei capi ,” I object under my breath.
Victor is smart and sensible enough not to add anything to my comment. He knows as well as I do that a real boss starts showing the mafia world what he’s capable of at an early age. So that when his eighteenth birthday comes around, no one questions his capabilities.
As far as the Outfit knows, I’m soft. A civilian, or as Gio would say, a normal. Too unfit to rule. My parents made sure of that.
“I’m curious,” Victor starts, his expression pensive, “is being the head of a family truly that important to you, or is it being head of your family that is?”
“I don’t understand the question,” I reply, feigning ignorance.
“Yes, you do,” he retorts poignantly. This time, I’m the one who remains silent, refusing to take the bait he just threw at my feet. “You know my situation, Jude,” he continues, sensing my reluctance to have this conversation with him. “Some within The Firm believe that I have no heir to speak of.”
“That’s not true. You have Mina,” I defend with too much bite in my voice for it to go unnoticed.
“Yes, I have Mina.” He smiles as he always does when anyone mentions his one and only daughter. “But though as hard as I’ve tried, I’m unsure if the Firm is ready for a woman to lead us, even one as exceptional as my princess.”
I fucking hate misogyny, but even I have to admit that our world is no place for a woman. Not even one as fearless as Mina Crane.
Though I yearn for home, the thought of leaving Mina behind… unsettles me. I know that it shouldn’t. I should pocket my feelings and let Mina live the life she was always destined to live. But if I’m honest with myself, Mina Crane is the real reason I’ve been hesitant to leave London, even more so than leaving her father’s tutelage.
“I could initiate you. Here. To the Firm. As my heir,” Victor says with a friendly smile.
“Your heir?” I ask, feeling my chest tighten at the offer.
“Any man that marries my Mina will be in line to inherit my throne. You know that as well as I do.”
My jaw clenches so hard I fear it will break.
“You’d sell your daughter to a man just because he’d be a good candidate as boss?”
Victor’s gray gaze turns instantly deadly, his nostrils flaring in contempt.
“Careful, lad. Though I’ve grown fond of you over the years, I wouldn’t lose sleep in gutting you like a pig if you use the words sell and daughter in the same sentence again,” he forewarns, offended at the insinuation.
“Then why make me such an offer?”
“If you don’t know the answer to that question, then you are more blind than I thought,” he quips back, getting up from his seat to fetch another glass.
I do know the answer, but I refuse to say as much.
Instead, I say the only thing I can.
“Mina is barely twenty-one. Far too young to be caged into an arranged marriage.”
“Younger than her have wed for much less,” he scolds. “And if we are talking about age, may I remind you that you came knocking on my doorstep younger than she is now. You knew your own mind at that age. What makes you think my daughter doesn’t know hers?”
I swallow dryly.
“Did she ask you to make me such a proposal?”
“If she did, would that influence your answer?”
Yes.
“My father would never agree to it,” I reply, skirting the question.
“No, he would not. In fact, he would never forgive me for even offering such a thing.” Victor frowns. “He’s a proud, stubborn man, your father. But he is your father. He wouldn’t like having his firstborn abdicating his birthright to take another man’s throne. More so, he’d hate you living so far away from him. Somewhere he couldn’t protect you.”
“You sound just like him. As if I’m a child in need of protection,” I interject in frustration.
“Because you are. You are his child. You always will be, no matter how old you get. But I fear that lesson will only be learned after you have a child of your own.”
It’s my turn to frown.
Being Vincent’s firstborn child comes with too many rules and stipulations.
Deep down, I know it comes from a place of love.
I know it does.
But how can I become who I want to be if his love stifles my growth?
“And still, you offer to initiate me. Go against the great Vincent Romano. Are you sure you want such a war?” I ask with fake lightheartedness.
“You forget that I’m a father, too. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my child.”
I swallow dryly, watching the severity in his eyes.
“If I say no, what will happen to Mina?”
I try to convince myself that the look in his gaze isn’t disappointment when I ask such a question.
“I will do as I have always done. Leave Mina to decide her own fate.”
“Even if that means you won’t have a male heir for the Firm with your stamp of approval?”
“Like I said, one day you’ll realize that being the boss is nothing compared to being a father. My reign means very little in comparison. Though I doubt it will come to that. My Mina still has time to change minds, even if she can’t change hearts.”
“Can I think about it?” I ask after a pregnant pause.
“I’d be disappointed if you gave me your answer tonight,” he replies with a forlorn smile.
Needing to clear my head and make sense of our conversation, I rise from the couch and give him a respectful nod.
“Jude,” he calls out to me before I’ve taken a step.
“Don’t give me an answer until you’ve spoken with your father. I’d hate to turn a friend into a foe.”
“I wouldn’t think of it. If my father calls you again, tell him to expect me for Christmas, just as he requested. It’s time I go home and settle this once and for all.”
In other words, this conversation will be done face to face.
Victor has given me much food for thought.
On one hand, he just offered to initiate me into the Crane family, assuring me that I will become the boss once I marry his daughter. On the other hand, not only would I forfeit any chance of leading the Outfit one day, but I would also be saying goodbye to being part of my family.
My parents would never forgive me. My brothers and sisters would continue growing up without my presence and eventually forget about me. And the life I always envisioned would simply be replaced by a knockoff. An imitation that can never fully live up to the dream I have had since I was a child.
Yes, the Crane Firm is as respected as the Outfit, but it isn’t home.
Chicago is my home. Where I belong.
The only thing that it doesn’t have is… Mina.
Mina.
How could I possibly give her up now?
Especially when her father all but gave us his blessing?
It doesn’t matter.
His offer came with too many unfavorable variables to it.
Because by naming me his heir, I’d be stealing Mina’s birthright right from under her.
What good would it do me to marry the only woman I will ever love, if she’ll end up hating me in the end?
Maybe I’m more like my father than I care to admit. He’s made more than one decision solely based on love.
My mind is still trying to make heads or tails of the clusterfuck I find myself in when I finally step out of Victor’s office, only to come face to face with a heartbroken Mina.
“Mina,” I utter, rushing towards her, but she steps back, brushing away a stray tear from her cheek.
“Why did you tell him no?” she asks accusingly.
“I didn’t,” I quickly defend, hating that she overheard every word of what was supposed to be a private conversation between her father and me.
“You didn’t say yes, either.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I hate that word. You say it every time you refuse to be honest with me. I don’t understand what’s so complicated about it. Am I not enough? Is the dowry my father just promised you not enough?” she spits out the last part angrily.
“You know it’s not about that.”
“Yes, it is. If you leave… if you go back to Chicago… then it is.”
“Mina,” I try to defend again, but the heartbreaking look of betrayal stitched to her beautiful face is too much for me to bear.
“I’ve been trying to understand why, every time you brought up the subject of you going home to see your family, you would shut me down. At first, I thought it was just your pride getting in the way. But then, when we…after we…” She sobs softly. “It doesn’t matter. I finally realized the truth. You didn’t want to go home because you knew you’d never come back. I’m right, aren’t I?” she asks, searching my eyes for any glimpse of hope that she might be wrong. “Don’t go,” she begs before I can get a word in.
“I have to.”
“No. You don’t. You can stay here… with me.”
My chest feels like someone is driving a stake through it with the way her eyes water with a river of unshed tears. I quickly bridge the gap between us, and before she can pull away, I cup her cheeks in my palms.
“I have to do this, Mina. I have to see this through. You’ve always known my plans. I never hid them from you.”
“Plans change.”
“Not mine.”
“No. Not yours,” she murmurs, pulling away from my touch.
“Mina,” I plead, trying to touch her again, but she’s having none of it.
“If you leave… don’t come back,” she says with conviction, her gray eyes mirroring the same deadly intensity as her father’s.
“You don’t mean that,” I reply, dismissing her warning.
“Yes, I do. If you leave… then you’ve made your decision as far as I’m concerned.”
“For fuck’s sake, Mina. It’s not that black and white. You’re being irrational,” I reply a bit too harshly, losing patience with her ultimatum.
She lets out a soft, self-deprecating laugh and states, “Women talk of love, and men call them irrational.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant. And this is what I mean—you’ll have to choose between me or your incessant need to live up to some idealist notion of your birthright. Those are your choices, Jude. Love or power. Which one will you relinquish your soul to?”
I stand back, amazed she would phrase it in such a way.
When I don’t answer her fast enough, she wipes away another tear, her beautiful face hardening into stone.
“Very well. I see that your mind is made up. Like it’s always been when it comes to me.”
“Mina—”
“No!” She takes another step back. “You’ve made your decision. And now it’s time I make mine.”
She takes one last lingering look at me, the sparkle in her eyes gone. Then, without a word, she turns and walks away from the foyer and out of my life—forever.