Blood Always

5

“You would arrange a marriage for your own daughter? Deny one of them the opportunity to marry for love?” I had half expected him to offer up the daughter of a capo, but I should have known better. The conversation wasn’t idle banter as far as Enzo was concerned. Anyone shy of upper management would make the gesture pointless. It would have to be two individuals with enough influence and respect in their organizations to make a difference—to bring the two families together. What Enzo didn’t know was that I would be the only viable option for the Gallo family. There was no one else of sufficient rank or age who was unmarried. It would have to be me. At thirty-five, marriage didn’t scare me. I had known for some time that it would be an important part of my role in the family. Mafia bosses were almost always married—wives and children were an integral part of our culture. One day soon, I would be boss, and I would need to have roots. A strategic marriage, while unexpected, was just as good as any. Definitely worth consideration. Enzo’s face hardened, giving me a glimpse of the man who had risen to his role as boss during a violent mafia turf war. “I love my daughters and want nothing more than for them to be safe and happy. However, I swore an oath to la famiglia—the Lucciano name comes first. What’s best for the family will be best for my daughters and nieces in the long run. If that means one of them must make a sacrifice for the betterment of the rest of the family, so be it. Not only that, but I don’t see a marriage as a death sentence. I would expect the man your family selects would treat his wife with respect. In the old days, women were seen as property. Once a daughter was married off, her family was helpless to come to her aid. Things have changed. This is not a sale of chattel; it is an alliance. The accord would come to an end should one of my own be mistreated. I don’t expect wedded bliss, but I also will not tolerate abuse. Am I being clear?” Tally another point for the Lucciano boss. It was hard to respect a man who would sell off his own blood, but Enzo was making it clear that was not the case. He was fiercely loyal to his family, and that would not disappear upon the execution of a marriage license. Fortunately, his concerns wouldn’t be an issue. I may not be a hipster p***y, but I wasn’t going to beat my wife. “If there are no other stipulations or concerns, I’ll take this to Angelo and let you know his decision.” I stood and extended my hand. Enzo clasped my hand and spoke before releasing me. “Angelo isn’t exactly known for setting aside his emotions and making logic-based decisions. I think you understand the importance of what we are discussing and the potential benefits we could both reap from an alliance. I can only hope you’ll do your best to help him see this as a good thing rather than a threat to his power.” He wasn’t wrong, but there was no way I would cop to that and insinuate any weakness in the Gallo family leadership. “Angelo has indeed made a reputation for himself, but that doesn’t mean he’s not acting in the best interest of the family. Sometimes, leadership requires bold action. As we sit and discuss the possible arranged marriage of one of your daughters, I would think you’d understand that.” His jaw flexed beneath his neatly trimmed beard. “I hope you’re right.” I held his stare for an extra beat before walking away. *** The following week was spent discussing options and debating the merits of Enzo’s proposal. Once a decision was made and I had volunteered myself as groom, Enzo informed us that Maria had agreed to become my wife. I spent the next two weeks researching her and settling into the notion that, in a few short months, I would be walking down the aisle. Envisioning myself taking over as boss and gaining insider access to the Lucciano construction business made the concept of marriage sound almost enticing. We controlled the cement and waste management industries for the entire state. Angelo hadn’t kept our businesses in the greatest shape, but I had plans. With the Lucciano family at my side, I could resurrect the Gallo name. We would become unstoppable. If it meant saying “I do,” it would be a small price to pay. After meeting my bride for the first time, I decided she might have perks of her own. She’d be a pain in the ass, but a f*****g gorgeous pain in the ass. Her thick hair was perfect to fist, and her curves would make JLo weep with envy. The sight of her straddled above me got me so hard, I wouldn’t have needed much to push me over the edge. Assuming she didn’t kill me in my sleep, our marriage might just be one of the best things to ever happen to me. “You busy?” Filip called from my office doorway. “Venturi’s here to see you.” “Send him in.” My youngest brother disappeared, and moments later, Diego Venturi, the Gallo family Consigliere, came into view. It had been a rough couple of months for the older man who acted as counselor to the boss. His first-born son had been killed by Sal Amato as part of a setup to get Enzo killed in retaliation. Gio had been moving up the ladder in the cement business, tasked with handling price negotiations with Enzo. One day, Gio didn’t come into work. The family found him hanging from a rope in his home with a penned suicide note left on his desk. Gio was ambitious. He had a fiancée and everything to look forward to in life—the faked suicide had been a joke. Sal had intended for us to figure out it was a hit and hoped we’d blame Enzo, since he was the last person to see Gio alive. Diego didn’t take the loss well. He wanted revenge on the Luccianos, regardless of their lack of involvement in his son’s death. I understood where he was coming from. I lost my mother when I was only twelve and had been desperate for payback in the months that followed. Those are the times we need someone close to keep us from lashing out when emotion has clouded our judgment. I’d spent weeks talking Diego off a ledge, but he was still unable to see past his hatred. “How did your date go with the Ice Queen? Ready to settle down and have little Genovese bastards?” The contempt in his words was palpable. I reminded myself he was still grieving and refrained from shoving my fist in his windpipe. “Be very careful, Diego. That’s my future wife you’re talking about.” I paired my warning with an ‘I-can-bury-you-withoutbreaking-a-sweat’ look and knew my message was received when his gaze dropped to the floor. “f**k, Matteo. I’m sorry.” “You’re going to have to come to terms with this, Diego. It’s happening, and I’ll need you to stand beside me as we unite with the Luccianos. We’ll face enough flack outside the administration, the last thing we need is dissent from within.”