50. Nico
Nico
Dante had arrived early for the birthday party, requesting a meeting. He'd invited Eros, as my Consigliere, to come, too, so he would be aware of his plans. The timing isn't great, but my brother has been spiraling for months now. With a heavy sigh, I tell him what he wants to hear. "Okay."
"Okay? You're really okay with me leaving?" he asks.
"What choice do I have? You're useless to me like this. Go get her, win her back if you can and if Alessio doesn’t slit your throat first."
"I've caused you a lot of trouble."
He has, but he's still my younger brother. "What about Father?" I ask. He's stubbornly hanging on, but we know he's going to die one of these days. "I know you hate him…"
"I'll still come home for that if I can."
"When will you leave?"
"After the party."
It's useless to try and talk him out of this. "This is my fault for letting her go."
"No, Nico. It's my fault for not doing that myself."
Eros wishes him luck, and, with a heavy heart, I hug my brother, wondering if I'll ever see him again.
He asks to visit Amadeo and Lucia in the nursery, and once he goes to do that, Eros and I turn our attention to business.
We're discussing the expansion of our underground gambling operations when Primo steps into my office. "May I speak with you for a moment, Capo?"
Eros shoots me a puzzled smile, but I nod, telling my Consigliere we'll finish our discussion later. "Do you want a drink?" I ask Primo once we're alone.
He paces back and forth, shaking his head before nodding. Clearly, Primo has got himself worked up about something. I hand him a glass of bourbon, figuring he can handle it now that he's healed. "I want to talk about my future."
"You said you'd been accepted at DePaul and will begin in the fall semester. Has something changed?"
"No, I'll study Finance and Accounting like we discussed."
"You'll be incredibly useful to the Trio with that knowledge," I say, hoping he's not upset that I'm essentially removing him from most of the tasks Made Men perform.
"Yes, math was my best subject, and my mother is excited for me." I smirk to myself; certain she's overjoyed her baby boy's odds of living to a ripe old age have increased dramatically with this move. "I won't let you down, Capo."
"I'm sure of it. I suspect there's a 'but' coming."
He sucks in a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and standing tall. "As you are the head of this household and her closest living male relative, I've come to ask for you for Maddalena's hand."
"Ah."
"The Trio is paying for my education, and I can afford an apartment, so there shouldn't be a problem."
"Primo, you're nineteen."
"Yes. So?"
"And Maddalena won't be nineteen for a few more months."
"My parents married young."
"I know, but we don't have to do everything the way our parents did. Our fathers were both supporters of the Seconda Notte and the bloody sheet tradition. Are you planning to follow that example?"
"Hell no!"
"Good. Maddalena has applied at North Park. She wants to attend college, explore a few opportunities. You've got plenty of time for marriage and everything that comes with it. Traditions die hard in the mafia, but that doesn't mean we have to blindly agree to follow all of them. Just our oath."
"So, you're saying you want someone of higher rank for your sister-in-law."
I stifle a sigh of frustration. "No, I'm suggesting you date each other, enjoy being college students for a while. If you make her happy and she's the girl for you, I will not stand in your way, but it's her you'll propose to, not me, okay?"
Primo accepts my answer, withdrawing, and I wonder if I've made a new enemy until Maddalena pays me a visit shortly after he leaves.
"I didn't tell him no," I begin. "I simply encouraged him to-"
My words are cut off when Maddalena darts forward, wrapping her arms around me for a hug.
"I take it you don't want to marry him?" I ask, wryly.
"No, I do. Someday. I don't want to be a bride at eighteen like my sister was." The twinkle in her eyes tells me she doesn't mean any ill will with her words.
She hugs me again and then leans back studying my face. For just a moment, the old self-consciousness about my scar flickers before I squash it. Her sister loves me as I am, and that's all that really matters. "What?" I ask when she starts giggling.
"I understand why my sister steals your cologne so often… because you smell incredible."
Rolling my eyes, I playfully tell her to get out of my office before asking, "Where is my wife?"
"In the kitchen, baking cupcakes."
***
In the nursery, I shared the news about Dante's decision with Matilde. She's worried for him but hopes that things might work out. "Maybe Alessio is tired of war, too?"
Not likely. Not when it involves his little sister.
I also tell her of my talk with Primo and Maddalena. She grins, already privy to her sister's feelings. "Thank you for seeing things her way."
"I'm still not sorry about forcing you into this marriage," I say, raising my eyebrows.
She laughs, reminding me I called it a marriage of convenience. I'd forgotten what it was to truly live before she walked into my life. If I'd gone on trying to keep her at arm's length, maybe that's all it would ever have been. But Matilde was brave enough to fight for something deeper, for love.
I ask her how soon she'll cry once we light the birthday candles.
"This is a happy day. Why would I cry?"
***
She cries.
The instant the song begins, she's wiping at her eyes. I knew she'd be emotional about today. It only makes me love her that much more.
"Happy Birthday to you…"
Amadeo is shrieking in his highchair, and Lucia covers her ears as the song comes to an end. "Did we sound that terrible?" Primo asks.
"It's their first birthday. They just don't know what to make of all this fuss."
"I don't know what to make of it either, Mother," I drawl, staring at the dozens of mylar balloons and abundance of pastel streamers decking our dining room walls. With Ersilia and Maddalena's help, she went a little overboard decorating earlier while Nunzia and Matilde worked on the cupcakes.
"Oh, hush, you. Matilde, Maddalena…" my mother urges, gesturing at the candles. Maddalena and Matilde step right in, dutifully blowing them out before the children get curious enough to grab them after I've taken pictures.
As the family settles around the table to watch the twins destroy their cupcakes, I take a seat beside my wife. "I love you."
She smiles softly. "And I love you."
I kiss her forehead just as Amadeo decides throwing his cupcake might be more fun than smashing it.
He nails Primo in the side of the face, and Maddalena laughs before wiping the icing off her boyfriend's face…
with her tongue. Ersilia clucks her tongue at the impropriety, making Matilde snort into her napkin.
Lucia whimpers and I pull her into my lap.
She promptly smears icing on my shirt, so I pretend to eat her hand.
Her adorable giggles as well as her mother's soon fill the room.
The chaos of family time. Who would have ever thought I'd love it so much?
My mother's phone rings, interrupting the moment. She glances at me worriedly before answering. I assume it's the nurse calling about father. It's not. "It's Caterina," she whispers.
Across the room, Dante stiffens. I nod, knowing she's been speaking to her off and on despite the war. So many months since the family has been together. "She wants to wish the twins a happy birthday, Nico."
Matilde watches me worriedly, knowing my schooled expression hides my true feelings. Just as she loves her twin, I love my sister. And I won't forget that Caterina was there for my wife after an extremely traumatic experience.
Mother passes me her phone. I pick up Amadeo and set him next to Lucia in my lap so Caterina can see them both on the screen. Words fail me but not Matilde. "Hello, Caterina."
"Hi, Matilde. Aren't they precious? Your Aunt Cat loves you both and wants to see you," she says, thickly. The twins are only mildly interested in the phone screen and the pretty lady chattering at them. "Hello, Nico."
"Hello, Cat." The strained emotion in our exchange hurts. I don't know how to end the war at this point. So much bad blood in the past several months.
Our conversation isn't long. When she asks about Dante, I look up only to find my brother has already left. "He's not here right now." And I don't know when he'll find his way back home.
"Alessio probably let her call because it's their anniversary," I mutter, passing my mother's phone back to her.
Matilde squeezes my hand, and I remember today is supposed to be a celebration of the good things. "You haven't opened your gift yet."
"My gift? It's not my birthday."
"No, it's not your birthday, but you deserve all the gifts and parties you desire… and this."
Eros passes me a small, giftwrapped box, and I place it in her lap.
Embarrassed by all the eyes watching, she blushes, so I give them a pointed look, and a flurry of chatter surrounds us.
Reaching for my knife, I offer to help her with the pretty paper.
She gives me a smirk, ripping it instead and making me laugh quietly.
Her eyes widen when she sees what's inside. "A passport?"
"Yes."
"Why do I need a passport?"
"Because our children are one now, so I thought it was past time I whisk my wife away for a honeymoon."
***
Standing on the terrace of our villa, overlooking the Mediterranean in a flowing dress, she's too beautiful to be real. I'm memorizing the image for my next attempt at art.
"We should call home."
Chuckling, I shake my head and pull her close. "The children are fine. My mother and your sister will spoil them rotten while we're gone. I'm glad you consider Chicago your home now."
"You are my home, Nico."
"And you are mine." I bury my nose in her hair. "Should I start using your shampoo so I can smell like a ripe peach, too?"
Matilde throws her head back, laughing at the notion. "No, I steal your cologne, but you have to come to me for my scent."
"My little thief…" Her eyes sparkle, and a sexy little grin appears when she starts tugging at my belt buckle. I brush her bottom lip with my thumb. "I want to fuck this pretty mouth later."
"I like the sound of that."
"But first… I want to devour your pussy." Dragging her inside, we only make it to the sofa. A pile of discarded clothes and a tangle of limbs, I get my wish, wringing sweet cries of ecstasy from her.
We make love all afternoon, venturing out for dinner at last where I can practice my Sicilian. We plot our handful of days away from the kids and my Trio responsibilities, savoring this time that's just for us.
When we return to our villa that night, I take my time removing her dress again. Then, I kneel to take off her shoes, gazing up at her with utter devotion. I rule hundreds of men and thousands of miles of territory, but I'll always be on my knees for this woman.
Lifting her into my arms, I carry her to the bed. Leaving the bedside lamp on, I lose myself in her mesmerizing eyes. They're filled with the same deep love that consumes me. Rocking forward, I claim my bride once more, softly kissing her lips. "Five hundred and three."
She smiles, reaching up to lovingly caress my scarred cheek. I kiss the inside of her wrist when she whispers, "Do you still doubt I find you as beautiful as you find me?"
"No."
"Good." I kiss her shoulders before moving my hips, savoring her heat and this moment. Matilde watches me with such sweet intensity. "What are you thinking now, Nico, my love?"
Love. This beautiful, amazing woman loves me. Like our children, it's a gift too precious for words. Something I'll never deserve but will always do my best to earn. "I'm thinking about you, tesoro. I'm thinking about love."