Chapter 31
FRANKIE
I’ve put off the conversation about Brandon long enough.
Three days after returning home, I go to find Marlena.
She’s in the nursery, deciding what kind of decorations to put on the wall.
She has an interior designer with her who is showing her wallpaper samples from a book.
The two women are conversing lightly, as if there’s nothing wrong with the world.
I interrupt them by knocking on the door.
“Frankie,” Marlena says, drawing me in. “What do you think of this one?”
She points to a sample that has alphabet blocks on it. I don’t care what she puts on the baby’s walls; that’s not a priority to me. But I can’t very well brush off something that’s clearly bringing her joy.
“What about this one?” I ask, pointing to the next page where there are simple blue and green stripes.
Marlena frowns. “I was hoping to come up with something cuter than that.”
“Will you excuse us?” I ask the designer.
“What is it?” Marlena wonders.
“I just need a moment of your time,” I say.
It’s rude to interrupt her when she’s with someone, but I need to get this out of the way.
I’m scheduled to go out with Edoardo in half an hour, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.
Marlena has taken to going to bed early and waking up early.
I’ve been staying up late because of the work Uncle Gio has me doing, which means I sleep as long as possible during the day.
I’m afraid our schedules will never align again, and I want to take advantage of this small window of opportunity to talk with her.
The designer gives me a tight smile. She’s clearly displeased that I’m not valuing her time, but she’s too polite to make a fuss about it. “I’ll be right outside,” she says.
Marlena nods apologetically. “What’s wrong?” she asks as soon as we’re alone.
“I wanted to talk to you about Brandon,” I begin.
“What is it?” she prompts, leaving me no choice but to continue.
“I lied when I said that everything was fine,” I admit. “Everything isn’t fine. I don’t think he’s going to classes.”
“What do you mean?” she mutters.
“When I stayed with him, he didn’t do much except go out to bars at night.
He has three roommates who aren’t helping.
They’re getting high all the time, and I could tell neither of them has a job.
” As soon as I begin talking, I rush to get to the end.
It’s best to just lay my cards on the table and let her sort through them.
So, I quickly run through my experience at Brandon’s apartment, leaving nothing out.
When I’m done, Marlena sits with the news in silence. Finally, she pats me on the shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.”
“What do you think we should do?” I ask.
“I’ll talk to him,” she says solemnly.
“Okay,” I say, feeling a bit lost. This conversation was anticlimactic.
I expected Marlena to cry or to wring her hands in worry, not simply brush it off like another task she must perform before childbirth.
She has a lot on her mind and Brandon is only one of those things.
But I did my part. “Are you okay?” I ask, hesitant to leave her without assuring myself that she can deal with the news.
“I’m fine,” she says quietly. “It’s sad. I promise I’ll talk to him.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” I offer.
“You didn’t,” she assures me.
I give her a hug. “You’re a lot stronger than I give you credit for.”
She pulls back, giving my shoulder a playful pinch. “You better remember that.”
“I will,” I promise.
Out in the hall, I signal to the designer that she can go back in.
I’m feeling a little bit better, but only marginally.
I’m glad that one of us has their head on straight.
If only Sofia was more like Marlena, then everything could be solved with a simple conversation.
But of course, Sofia left, taking with her any hope I might’ve had of reconnecting.
I groan in frustration for even having that thought. Sofia is gone. Brandon is messed up, but at least he has Marlena. I’m sure she can straighten him out better than I can. In the meantime, I have tons of work to do and an exam to study for.
I go downstairs to grab myself a sandwich before heading out with Edoardo. We’re supposed to meet with some pretty gruff characters today. Edoardo hasn’t told me much about them, but enough to know that he’s nervous about the meeting.
I’m starting to get the hang of my father’s operation.
It doesn’t seem to matter how difficult something is, when the boss says, ‘Do it,’ you do it.
So, I’m off to accompany the head of security while we deal with an unpleasant issue.
In that light, Marlena’s reaction to her brother’s addiction seems par for the course.
She and my father are more alike than I thought.
They both have a quiet strength of character that allows them to move mountains in their own time.
“Ready to go?” Edoardo asks, swinging into the kitchen from the back porch. He smells like cigarettes, so I guess he’s been smoking outside. Marlena hates that. I’ll have to makes sure he does that far away from the house where she can’t smell, she already has enough with worrying about Brandon.
“Yeah,” I agree, following him through the house and out the front door.
He’s not nearly as conversational as Gio, but I’ve grown accustomed to him. We drive in silence until we’re nearly there, when Edoardo starts to fill me in on the job.
“I just want you to stand there, and not say anything,” he requests.
“Got it,” I respond.
There’s a certain dance that we must perform each time we apply pressure on someone.
It involves one or two people looking menacing and staying mute, while the other person asks the questions.
My job this time will be to imply that I’m there to kill someone, without saying anything.
I’ve done it at least half a dozen times before and so I feel prepared.
“Who’s this guy we’re leaning on?” I ask.
“Freddy Diaz,” Edoardo says. “We think he’s been skimming money off the top.”
“Do we have any proof?” I wonder.
“We have all the proof we need,” Edoardo confirms.
I’ll take that as gospel, considering it comes straight from my father. There are a lot of ‘need to know’ situations that I’m being thrust in the middle of. I learned long ago to trust my father’s instincts, and this is no different.
We barge into Freddy’s apartment uninvited. There’s a woman cooking soup in the kitchen who screams and tries to run. Freddy is sitting on the couch, watching a soccer game. He tries to get up, but Edoardo pins him down.
I branch off to deal with the screaming woman. She tries to throw the boiling soup at me, but I duck. The soup hits the wall and splashes around, oozing its way to the floor. It barely touched me, much less hurt. I put one hand out, asking her to remain calm.
She looks at the doorway, as if trying to judge whether she can make it in time. I shake my head and pull out a chair for her to sit down. Reluctantly, she sits, and I leave her to join Edoardo in the living room.
My father’s chief of security patiently explains the problem to Freddy.
We’re all aware of the heightened stress level in the room.
I’m not prepared to do anything to harm anyone, but Freddy and his wife or girlfriend don’t know that.
They think we’re all seasoned professionals who won’t hesitate to end their lives.
That’s the key to the performance we’re enacting, and I play my part just like I’m supposed to.
Freddy finally leads Edoardo into the bedroom. I stay in the living room to cover our exit. A few grunts and groans of pain later, Edoardo returns, tucking something into the waistband of his cargo pants.
“Let’s go,” he says.
I walk out of that apartment just like it’s any other day.
There will be no consequences for what we’ve just done, even though we scared that poor woman to death.
Each time I must do something like this, another little piece of me dies.
I think of Sofia, and how she betrayed me.
But can I blame her? I’m turning out to be no better than the rest of the mafia princes out there.
She was right to run away, and I was a fool to let her.
That night, I must force myself to study.
Being a lawyer seems like a pipe dream. What kind of lawyer pretends that he’s muscle for the mob?
No one that I know of, that’s for sure. I hope that with my law degree, I can put this kind of distasteful work behind me.
I know that I’m not there to hurt anyone.
Dad just wants me to understand what might have to be done.
I wonder if I’ll ever get a chance to lead the organization.
I’m no fool. If I don’t do a good job, there are dozens of ambitious men out there who would kill to take my place.
Mafia families are just as vulnerable as anyone else, assuming that the challenger is bloodthirsty enough.
I hope that won’t be the case for me. Dad and Marlena can get out of the life before it’s too late.
I think about my father and his wife alone on a beach somewhere remote.
I hope that they can retire in peace, no matter how difficult that will make things for me when they are gone.
Marlena’s baby deserves the kind of life I never had.
He or she should be free to do whatever comes naturally, without worrying about iron fences and bodyguards.
It’s too late for me, but it’s not too late for my baby brother or sister.
I promise myself I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep my family safe.
It’s no longer about my future, but the future of the people I care about.
That gives me the strength to keep doing what I’m doing, no matter what the personal cost.