"Based on recent occurrences, we have reason to believe that Gallozzi has found a superior in the person of Siena. It means that we should harness her skills to our own advantage. If she is as smart as you say, don't you think it will be wise for us to have her on our side?" Federico asked."Forget the money she took. She can get us more with those skills of hers."
Ricci thought about this.
He had always hated the thought of marriage; of commitment. He had even joked sometimes that he would sooner hang himself than get himself tied to a woman. Here his own consigliere was, joining the league of his mother and sister in trying to match him with somebody.
"Think about it," Federico said. "Apart from her skills, she comes from a good family. You more than anyone else should know what a good mafia family pertains to. With their territories in America, we can further expand into God's own country. The consolidation of power would bring benefits to both families if you unite."
"That means we would also have to give them territories in Italy," Ricci observed, frowning.
Federico shrugged."Win some, lose some. But more importantly," Federico continued, "if she is to rise to the position of boss, you will have her in your pocket. This means her territories would be your territories- in Italy, in New York..."
Ricci's hands roamed his curls. He hated the idea of marriage, but the benefits of this marriage with Siena were enormous.
He also couldn't discount the fact that Siena was hot- really hot. He would have to be dead to not notice it. Any man would desire Siena. Her fiery nature allured more than it annoyed him now.
Ricci swore under his breath, as he cleared his thoughts. The image of her had once again invaded his thoughts. He would just as soon as lose his mind if he married her as with if he didn't. The image of her would torture him whichever way. He hadn't desired a woman on such a level before.
But he knew- as the perceptive don he was- that self-gratification should not rule one's decisions because that train of thought hardly considered anything else but itself.
He couldn't possibly marry Siena.
"Marry her," Federico said, as though he had read his mind."In the least, it would make your mother happy. She's been wanting your marriage for a while now."
Ricci thought about that. Was pleasing his mother worth the torture of a marriage? He wondered.
"Let's make them pay triple instead," Ricci said.
"They won't," Federico said."No one will pay triple what they stole from you as penace. And then you will lose manpower going after them. Capacity should not always dictate frequency of action. Yes, the family could afford a confrontation, but at what cost? We will only waste time and manpower. Marry her. She will be yours to order around; yours to control. She will steal money from your enemies for you. If she was able to hack into one of your accounts- one of the most secure in all of Italy- then your enemies had better started investing in safes!"
Beauty is dangerous, but intelligence is lethal. Ricci could not remember where he had heard that but it seemed to summarize this situation.
But more importantly, a line out of Federico's statement echoed in his mind.
She will be yours to order around; yours to control. Somehow, that was the only part of Federico's words that seemed to make sense to Ricci at the time. Mostly because it satisfied Ricci's quest for self-gratification; they were the guidelines towards treating his ego, the map to revenging on the woman who had so insulted him. He will tame her. He will make her bend to his will. And he will enjoy every single moment of it.
Let's get married.
"I will send you some specifications," Ricci announced to Federico."You will make a contract for the marriage. If I am going to marry Siena, then we would marry on my terms."
Siena had never liked Drusa Trebeschi. Drusa was not only a calculating manipulator, but she had a firm grip on New York's politics even without her family's influence. She was also boss of the Trebeschi family.
She was things Siena wasn't. But that was hardly the reason for the dislike.
Drusa had risen to power quite suddenly and violently, removing all those who opposed her. She had married the don of the Trebeschi family at nineteen-had practically been sold to the mid-forties boss.
The story was simple: Drusa's father had owed the don Giuseppe Trebeschi too much money than he could pay. As expected, time for payment knocked and he couldn't pay up with money of his own and so he had offered his daughter. Six years down the line, Giuseppe had been murdered and Drusa rose to power. It was not uncommon for dons to leave so soon, seeing as they were usually primary targets. They often led violent and brief lives. But the mode through which Drusa ascended made people question whether Drusa had not machineered the murder. Drusa had forcefully taken control and eliminated quickly all those who stood in her way: cops, mademen, capos, soldiers.
The dewy-eyed and sensitive Drusa had morphed into the storm: violent and sudden.
Enemies learnt to respect Drusa.
One of such was Siena.
Drusa and her had a temporary working relationship despite their differences over territories. Siena respected her not because she was powerful, but because it was more economically efficient. Wars would cause too much: men, money.
But why was Drusa in the restaurant Siena had come to with her boyfriend for dinner? Siena wondered as her eyes drifted just behind Dale's face to watch Drusa sip her drink, eyes on Siena.
Dale, Siena's boyfriend- her normal, no-links- with-organized-crime- boyfriend was all smiles and so disarmingly cute, but Siena could hardly concentrate on him.
She looked down at her food, but a man's face passed across her vision. It was not Dale's face and she hated the man, so she mentally shrugged the face away.
She tried to put not just Drusa but today's excitement behind her and concentrate on her date. Only just hours ago she had been captured on her way to her car just as she reached the parking lot of the mall, about to head inside her car. The near-deserted parking lot was a good place for her attackers to corner her, knock her out, and cart her away. When she came to, just about twenty minutes later, she wondered whether they were aware of her plan; whether they knew she had let herself be traced. Was that why they had been so quick to follow her tracks?
But no, they were clueless.
In their hearts, they had caught the hacker who had stolen from them and they were going to present her to their boss. How arrogant of them to think they had easily been able to catch her!
Siena waited then. She wanted to see their boss, their don...and spite him. She wanted to scorn their veery powerful boss. It had been deliberate, all of it...but the shock that came on her face when their boss pulled her hoodie off and he saw her face, and she saw his, was not.
Her shock was not so obvious, but it was there. The Prince of Italy looked every bit a prince.