Francesca
Giulio choked on his grappa and coughed loudly. "Are you always this bold?"
"I apologize. It's just that you seem different from your father. I'm having trouble seeing you as a hardened mobster."
He licked his lips and studied the glass in his hand. "It's all I've ever known. I was young when my mother died, and ever since then it's been Zia and my father, and the 'ndrina. I was inducted at fourteen. There's no other life for me."
"That sounds... sad."
The corner of his mouth curved, making him look like a younger version of his father. "Only an outsider would see you as such. Being the Ravazzani heir is a great privilege."
"Yes, but only if you want it. If you want the same life as your father."
"I have no choice. And it's not a bad thing, being feared and
