Bound By The Past: Part 1

Dante, nineteen years old

Muffled cries made me stop in my tracks in the hallway. The wails came from the library. I followed the sound and opened the heavy wood door. Ines sat in the armchair in her favorite reading nook, a book in her lap, but I doubted she could see a single letter of the words on the pages before her. Tears stained her cheeks.

My sister wasn’t a crier, had never been, and except for a few occasions when she’d been a young girl, I had never seen her cry. Our father had taught us to suppress any kind of emotional turmoil.

I stepped in, making my presence known. Ines’ blue eyes flew up, her body tensing, but she relaxed when she spotted me. “Oh, it’s you.” She wiped at her tears quickly, avoiding my gaze. I closed the door before I walked over to her and sank down on the small poof she usually used to prop up her feet while reading.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain calm even as my worry and protectiveness made it difficult.

She fumbled with the pages of her book, swallowing hard. “Father decided to whom I’ll be given in marriage.”

Ines was sixteen, so it was time to make that decision. That Father had put it off for so long was only because it gave him leverage. The tremor in her voice raised my worry. “Pietro asked for your hand.”

He was a good choice. He was a quiet, restrained man, unleashing his dark side only when required, like me. I had a feeling he’d keep it well contained in a marriage.

She nodded then threw herself at me. After a moment of shock, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Ines, tell me what’s the matter. Now.”

“He’s giving me to Jacopo Scuderi!”

Tension radiated through my body. “What?” I growled.

Ines sniffled, her tears soaking my collar and my throat. She didn’t stop trembling and shivering. I’d never seen her like this, but given what she’d revealed, it seemed the appropriate reaction.

Jacopo and I had worked together often in the past, not by choice on my part. Father wanted me to work with the Scuderis seeing as they were his Consigliere’s sons, but I abhorred Jacopo deeply. He was a cruel, vengeful being that thrived on demeaning people he considered less—women, low soldiers subject to his command, and his younger brother—and while I was a cruel and vengeful man, I didn’t find satisfaction in humiliating others, least of all women.

The few times I’d been forced to visit one of our whorehouses, I’d seen firsthand what Jacopo considered fun. I’d heard even more horror stories from his younger brother Rocco whenever he had been drunk and unable to shut his big mouth. Jacopo was a sadist, in bed and otherwise. I couldn’t imagine Ines knew the extent of his depravity, and yet she knew he was the worst choice.

Stifling my fury, I said, “Are you sure it’s decided on? Father didn’t tell me.”

Ines pulled back, her eyes full of misery. “It’s settled. He told me this morning right after his meeting with the Scuderis.”

I nodded, realizing why Father had made his choice. It was because I’d refused to marry anyone but Carla. I’d defied him and he’d realized he had no way of forcing or punishing me, so he’d finally given in to his Consigliere’s demand. Father knew what kind of men the Scuderis were. He knew what kind of man Jacopo was, and yet he gave Ines to him. He’d more than once dangled my sister’s fate over my head.

I touched Ines’ shoulder gently. “I’ll have a talk with him.”

“He won’t change his mind. He gave the Scuderis his word,” she whispered, her shoulders starting to shake under more sobs.

I stood and walked out. Ines was a trophy for Jacopo. He and his father had been asking Father to give her hand in marriage to Jacopo for years.

I headed for Father’s office, trying to remain calm. Nothing infuriated Father more than when he couldn’t draw a reaction out of me. In recent years a power shift had happened, it was gradual, but definitely there. He couldn’t punish me with pain anymore, not after years of numbing me to it. I knocked at his door, my knuckles stinging from the force of it. Barging in and demanding answers was what I really wanted to do, but Father was still Capo, still master of this house, and expected respect from everyone around.

“Come in,” Father drawled.

I schooled my face into a mask of calm. It wouldn’t be wise to give Father ammunition against me. Stepping inside, my eyes fell on Father who was sitting in his desk chair and looking down at his calendar. We looked very much alike—a fact people never stopped mentioning. Same cold blue eyes, blond hair, and aloof attitude. Every morning I woke, I swore to myself I’d be a better man. A better Capo. A better husband. A better father.

“I’m trying to decide when we’ll hold both weddings. Your sister’s next year and yours the year after.” He looked up with a calculating smile. Ines was too young to marry. “Or would you prefer to wait a couple more years before marrying? You’re only nineteen. Twenty-one then. Maybe you need a bit more time to enjoy other women.”

Carla would be nineteen in two years, one year older than Ines, and it would be unfair toward her to make her wait, and I didn’t want to. I wanted Carla. “No. I don’t need to wait.” I paused. “But I’m not here to discuss my wedding.”

Father tilted his head in mock curiosity. “Why are you here then?”

He knew damn well why I was here. Stifling my annoyance, I said, “To discuss Ines’ marriage with you. Jacopo isn’t someone we should consider bringing into our family.”

“As the son of my Consigliere and your future Consigliere, it’s the expected bond. The Scuderis have been waiting for Ines. Jacopo is very eager to marry your sister. He’s been refusing every other woman so far. Rocco is already married and will certainly soon have an heir. Jacopo deserves to be rewarded for his patience.”

I didn’t mention that Rocco already had two daughters. For my father, girls weren’t worth anything, which was why he treated Ines like a trophy to hand around. I shook my head. “He’s too old for Ines, Father. And his reputation leaves a lot to be desired. Maybe you haven’t heard the rumors but I’ve been working with Jacopo long enough to know he’s a sadist and psychopath. You can’t allow Ines to be at his mercy.”

Father gave me a look as if I didn’t understand the first thing about life. “If Ines answers to his demands, she’ll be fine. Each of us has to make sacrifices. She should be proud that she’s given to someone of his status.”

I regarded him, realizing he wouldn’t let me talk him out of this. “You’re making a mistake.”

He raised his finger. “And you should remember your place, Dante. You are my heir, true, but I’m still the Capo of the Outfit, still the master of this house.”

I swallowed my anger. I needed to be clever about this. Arguing with Father wouldn’t change a thing. I gave a terse nod.

“You’re working with Jacopo and Rocco tomorrow. You should congratulate him.”

“I will,” I gritted out.

Later that day Pietro called me and asked for a meeting. I knew what this was about. Given Jacopo’s tendency to brag about everything, he’d likely told everyone about his bond to Ines.

We met at the bar of one of our riverboat casinos for a drink. After dropping off my drink in front of me, the bartender kept his distance, sensing my dark mood.

Pietro was a little over two years older than me and currently working in Chicago before he’d take over as Underboss of Minneapolis from his father in a few years. I was nursing my whiskey when he sank down on the stool beside me, motioning for the barkeeper to give him the same I had.

I glanced toward him.

His shirt was wrinkled and his dark hair all over the place. The second the tumbler sat in front of him, he grabbed it and downed it in one gulp. Then his somber eyes met mine. “Don’t let Jacopo get his hands on Ines, Dante.”

I turned the glass around on the bar. Pietro had asked for Ines’ hand twice. As future Underboss of Minneapolis, he was a good choice. He was only six years older than her, not twelve like Jacopo, and most importantly, he wasn’t a sadist. “Why do you want Ines?” I asked him tiredly.

He frowned. “Because I respect her. Despite her age, she knows how to carry herself. She’s proud and elegant and beautiful.”

“And a good match.”

It was an indisputable fact. Every man in our circles who wanted Ines would be stupid not to consider the positive effect a marriage would have on his future.

“Of course, that too. My family wants a union with your family. But since I danced with Ines a few months ago, I knew I wanted her as my wife.” Pietro grabbed my arm, forcing me to meet his gaze. The honest concern in his eyes surprised me. It wasn’t love. He didn’t know Ines well enough for that, but he obviously cared about her. “Dante, you and I know what kind of man Jacopo is.”

Everyone knew what kind of man Jacopo was. He got off on torture. I, too, occasionally appreciated the power rush it gave, especially if I dealt with traitors or enemies, but Jacopo enjoyed it on a sexual level, which didn’t bode well in a marriage.

I inclined my head, trying to suppress the rage flooding my body.

“How can you be this calm? How can you not be raging?”

I almost smiled. My fury was bottled up deep inside where it would remain until I chose to unleash it. It had taken years to perfect my emotionless mask, now it was as impenetrable as steel. “My father is the Boss. You know it’s his decision, not mine.”

Pietro’s eyes were fierce. “But you disapprove of it.”

Of course I did. How could I not? “Ines is my sister,” I said merely. I wouldn’t say more in public, even if I liked Pietro.

“Can you stand by and watch her being given to a monster?”

“Jacopo is cocky and arrogant. It might get him killed eventually.”

Pietro ordered another drink for himself while I still twisted my first in my hands. I’d never enjoyed getting drunk. The loss of control and inhibitions abhorred me deeply.

“Eventually could be too late for Ines.”

I emptied my whiskey. “They won’t marry until next summer…”

“Next summer? She’s only seventeen then. Won’t they wait until she’s of age?”

The barkeeper held up the bottle but I shook my head. I didn’t want to get a buzz. “One year is a long time, Pietro.” I met his gaze.

He searched my eyes, trying to make sense of my words. I wouldn’t get more explicit than that.

“You can trust me. I can help.”

I gave him a cold smile, not saying anything. I wouldn’t spill my guts to him, or share more than I already had. Pietro was one of the few men I trusted to some extent but definitely not enough to tell him more than was absolutely necessary. “I don’t need your help.”

Rocco and Jacopo waited beside the car when Enzo and I arrived. Jacopo smiled broadly, his head even higher and his chest puffed up. I gave him and his brother a sharp nod. If I uttered a word now, it wouldn’t be anywhere close to the sophisticated cold I was famous for. Enzo shook their hands but from the way his mouth thinned when he touched Jacopo it was obvious what he thought of him. Few people liked Jacopo. I didn’t trust any of them.

Without a word, I slipped into the backseat. Enzo took the steering wheel as usual.

“You’re in the back, Squirt,” Jacopo said to Rocco whose ears turned red. In the past, his entire face had turned the same color but he’d learned to school his features over the years.

Rocco sank down beside me, silent but glaring daggers at the back of his brother’s head. Their animosity went beyond sibling rivalry. It was pure, undiluted hatred.

“Why do you still call him by that name?” Enzo asked in his low rumble as he started the car.

“Didn’t I tell you the story?”

“You told it to everyone repeatedly,” Rocco said quietly.

I gritted my teeth. “Indeed.”

Jacopo threw his brother and me a cruel smile through the rearview mirror. “It is too good a story to forget.”

I hadn’t been present when the name was born. But the story still made the rounds, mostly due to Jacopo bringing it up as soon as it died down. Rocco had been fourteen when Jacopo and his similarly depraved friends had taken him to a whorehouse for the first time. Apparently, Jacopo ordered two dancers to give Rocco very intense lap dances, which made him come in his pants. Naturally, that wasn’t the end of Rocco’s humiliation. Jacopo and his friends then forced Rocco to undress, to wipe his cum on a cracker and eat it. They probably would have found more ways to torture him if Giovanni Aresco, our Underboss here in Chicago, hadn’t intervened.

“We have a task to focus on and don’t have time to dwell in the past,” I clipped, ensuring silence in the remaining ride to our target.

Enzo parked a block away from the fabric building and went scouting the area with Rocco. My father disapproved of me taking part in attacks but I insisted. Still, I was rarely allowed to be at the forefront.

The moment Jacopo and I were alone, leaning against the car, he let out a sigh and smiled in a way that suggested he didn’t know why humans used the gesture but he’d adopted it. “Your father made me wait for a long time. Even my brother is already married, and I had to wait years for your sister. But she’ll make it worthwhile for me, I’m sure.” The smile turned darker, leering.

Rage boiled over, past my ironclad defenses. I rammed my elbow into his throat. My knife was right under my jacket. A jab was all it would take to save Ines from a cruel fate—a fate no woman deserved.

Challenge and fear flickered in Jacopo’s eyes. “You want to kill me because of a cunt?”

I tightened my hold. One slash and his blood would coat my hands. It would feel good, better than any kill before him. “Careful,” I said quietly. “This cunt is my sister, and you’d do well to remember that I will be your Capo in a few years. Show respect.”

“And I’ll be your Consigliere. It’s always been that way. Our fathers are friends. You can’t kill me.”

It was true. As long as my father lived, I couldn’t kill Jacopo, and even then it would be difficult to explain to my men. Scuderi was a name that carried power, that belonged to the Outfit. They were loyal. A good reason was necessary to dispose of one of them, and protecting my sister from marital rape and torture wouldn’t be considered one. The mere idea that Ines would have to suffer under Jacopo’s sadism made my blood boil.

I released him. All my life I’d worked to become Capo, to follow in my father’s footsteps. I was meant to rule over the Outfit, and I would. Nothing would stop my rise in power, least of all Jacopo Scuderi. I stepped back with a cold smile. “I won’t kill you, you are right.”

His smile turned more triumphant, certain in his inherited immunity. Steps rang out when Rocco and Enzo turned the corner, done scouting the area.

“All clear?” I asked.

They nodded, and I gave the sign to attack. As expected, we found six Bratva soldiers inside the fabric building, guarding their last drug delivery. We split up into pairs of two as we tried to eliminate our opponents as quickly and effectively as possible. Jacopo and I ended up in a smaller storage hall with three of the higher ranking Bratva soldiers, while Rocco and Enzo were busy dealing with the rest in the main storage.

When I’d struck down the first opponent, I advanced into the room and ducked behind a crate close to my next opponent. Jacopo stayed closer to the door, off to the left and dealt with enemy number three.

I could tell that my opponent was getting impatient and nervous. His aim was off and he kept raising his head to look toward the door for a way to escape. Would he really risk a dash for freedom? It was futile.

I aimed calmly, my arm steady as I waited for his next mistake. He finally raised his head again and I sent a bullet through the Bratva bastard’s head, sending his brain flying everywhere. He tumbled sideways to the ground, dropping his gun, a Russian model.

Jacopo was still in a shooting match with his opponent. My eyes were drawn to the Bratva gun. I tugged one of my leather gloves out of my jacket and slipped it on before I picked up the discarded gun. Then I raised my own Barretta and shot the last Bratva man with it. Jacopo whirled around with a triumphant grin, which died when he saw me pointing the Russian gun at him. “A marriage to you won’t be my sister’s fate.”

He jerked up his gun at the same time as I pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through his left eye, throwing his head back. His body fell backward. For a moment silence reigned around me, an eerie nothingness that resonated in my ears.

Betrayal.

I’d killed an Outfit soldier. A man who was loyal to the cause, to my father, to the Outfit.

A sharp intake of breath made my eyes dart toward the door, where Rocco Scuderi stood. One look at his expression and I knew he’d witnessed my murder of his brother. For several moments neither of us moved. I was still pointing the Russian gun at the place where Jacopo’s head had been.

Rocco’s face morphed from shock to… relief.

Rocco looked relieved, no, ecstatic to see his older brother dead. There had been no love between the two but this unguarded show of joy came as a surprise. I pointed my gun straight at Rocco’s skull but he hardly seemed to care. With wide eyes, he walked closer to his dead brother, a disturbing smile on his face. He spit on the corpse then kicked it hard several times.

I lowered my gun slowly, narrowing my eyes at the display of emotionality.

“See! See! You got what you deserve!” he raged, his head red and perspiring. “You got it!”

Breathing harshly, he turned around to me. My gun was leveled at his chest by now, as I was trying to decide if I could risk killing him as well. Rocco Scuderi wasn’t a good man, but he was as loyal as his brother, maybe even more so, and he didn’t share his brother’s sadism, at least he hadn’t openly displayed it until now.

Rocco’s gaze dropped to the gun in my hand, the Russian model that had ended his brother’s life, realizing it could end his as well. “I won’t tell anyone,” he said.

I moved closer to him, stepping over the dead Russian in the process. I didn’t take my eyes off Rocco. “You won’t?” I asked coldly. “Honor dictates that you tell your father the truth about who killed his heir, your vow binds you to reveal any betrayal of the Outfit to your Capo, my father.”

Rocco grimaced, his eyes shining with hatred. “For as long as I can remember, I wanted him dead. I would have killed him myself…” He shook his head. “I’m grateful that you did it. I’ll forever be grateful, Dante. I’ll take the secret to the grave with me, I swear it.”

“Why?” I stopped a few steps from him, the gun still trained on his heart.

“Because you gave me everything I ever wanted. Jacopo is dead, and I’ll be Consigliere.”

I tilted my head. “True. You’ll take over for your father eventually.”

Rocco frowned. “If he allows it. Jacopo was his favorite child.”

Jacopo’s brain decorated the bare concrete floor. “I can’t trust anyone with a secret of that proportion, you certainly understand.”

Rocco’s gaze became frantic. I could practically see his thoughts racing in his head. He took a step closer and I raised my gun higher. “Dante, I’m going to give my father poison, something that’s difficult to detect unless you’re looking for it specifically. Something that’ll make his end look like a heart attack. He’s had one before and it’s only natural for him to suffer another one after his heir, his favorite child is cruelly killed by a Bratva bastard. You’ll convince your father that I was devastated and that my father’s death was a natural cause and I’ll convince everyone the enemy killed my brother. That way I’m not the only one guarding a secret.”

Rocco had the potential to be a useful Consigliere, more so than Jacopo could ever have been. His father was only marginally better than Jacopo and too strongly entwined with my father. If I wanted a gradual power shift, I’d have to change the key players now. Killing Rocco would raise suspicions and leave me with Scuderi Senior to deal with for a decade or longer. I needed to diminish my father’s power now, in subtle but effective ways. “Wait a week or two. Let him die after the funeral.”

Rocco nodded, relief blatant on his face. “Thank you, Dante. You won’t regret it. I’ll be a loyal Consigliere, if you want me.”

“You’ll be Consigliere when I claim power, that’s my promise to you.” I paused. “But if you ever mention this event again, I’ll finish what I didn’t today. You’ll take this secret to your grave either way.”

“Nobody will find out from me.” Rocco regarded me with admiration and respect. I couldn’t detect deceit in his demeanor. I lowered the gun and put it back down beside the Russian.

“You need to move him to the side a bit so the angle is right,” Rocco said.

He was right. I dragged the Russian to the left then shoved my glove back into my pocket. Rocco gave a satisfied nod.

Enzo stormed inside, looking disheveled. His eyes landed on Jacopo. “Fuck. The fuckers got him?”

I nodded. “He was struck by a Russian bullet. We will have to avenge him. The Bratva needs to pay with blood,” I said firmly.

Rocco smiled grimly. “They will for killing my brother.”

A shared lie. I didn’t trust Rocco, but I trusted in his hatred for his brother and his eagerness to become Consigliere. Both would ensure his silence… for the time being.

One betrayal was always followed by another. It would take years for me to realize it.

After a late-night meeting with my father, the old Scuderi, and our Captains, I finally headed up to my room. I wasn’t sure if Father really believed that Jacopo had been shot so shortly after I’d found out he was to marry Ines. I had a feeling he knew of my betrayal but chose to ignore it. Or maybe he’d hold it over my head later. I wasn’t sure of his motives. He had only one heir, me, and he and Mother were too old for another child. He was bound to me like I was bound to him if I wanted to keep the respect of the Outfit. Patricide was something that wouldn’t be accepted in our traditional circles.

On my way to my bedroom, I stopped in front of Ines’ door. I rapped my knuckles against the wood.

“Dante?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Come in.”

I pushed the door open, slipped in and closed it. Ines stood in front of her window, already dressed for bed in a long nightgown, her long blonde hair trailing down her back. Jacopo’s disgusting words of what he’d do to her flashed through my mind, followed by the grim satisfaction that he would never touch an inch of my sister.

“I wanted to tell you…” I said but trailed off when Ines turned around to me. She knew Jacopo was dead. The utter relief shone on her face. “You aren’t supposed to listen in on meetings, Ines. Father will punish you.”

Father expected me to punish her as well, but I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t hit her, or hurt her in some other way. He’d never tortured her as he had me, but he hit her and treated her like she was less. My refusal to do the same infuriated him.

Ines rushed toward me and flung herself into my arms, hugging me tightly. “I’m so happy, so happy he’s dead. It’s horrid of me to be happy about something like that, but I am. I could dance from joy. I prayed every day since I found out about the marriage that he’d die, and now my wish came true. I know it was you. I know you killed him so he couldn’t hurt me.”

“Ines,” I hissed in warning. “What are you talking about?”

She raised her blue eyes filled with gratefulness. “I know it was you. Don’t lie to me. I know you did it to save me from him.”

I didn’t say anything because Ines knew me too well. No matter what I said, it wouldn’t change her mind.

“Thank you for saving me. Thank you, Dante. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Tears filled her eyes again, and my chest tightened. She rested her forehead against my chest, releasing a shuddering breath. “Thank you for killing him.”

“Ines,” I rasped. “Shhh. Nobody must know. Jacopo was killed by the Bratva, all right?”

She pulled back, smiling softly. “Carla is so lucky to become your wife. If she knew how honorable you are, she would stop worrying so much.”

My brows drew together. “Carla’s worried about marrying me?”

Ines and Carla had been friends for as long as I could remember, which was why I knew Carla despite her low status as only second daughter of a Captain—according to my father. The knowledge that they talked about me behind my back didn’t sit well with me. I hadn’t started noticing Carla until a year ago when I’d taken her home after she’d visited our home. It was inappropriate but Ines hadn’t felt well enough to join us. The thirty-minute drive during rush hour had forced us to talk and her soft lullaby voice as she talked to me about mundane things like stitching or cooking had given me a feeling of calm. While calm always reflected on my outside, true calm on the inside had eluded me. I’d started paying closer attention to her. She was beautiful but very shy about it, naturally submissive, kind and religious, almost pious. She was good in a way I strived to be every morning when I swore not to become like my father and yet failed to be already at breakfast when I entertained thoughts of how to remove the old man without losing the Outfit’s respect. If anyone could bring out whatever good there was in me, then it was someone like Carla.

Ines smiled. “You are hard to read, and quite frankly scary for people who don’t know you, so… everyone except for me.”

“She agreed to marry me.”

“Her father agreed, and any Captain would be insane not to agree if he could marry his daughter off to the future Boss of the Outfit.”

I stiffened. “If Carla doesn’t want me—”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what is it you’re saying, Ines? Tell me.”

She lowered her arms, her smile falling. “Don’t—” She swallowed. “Don’t sound like him. You scare me when you do.”

I released a low breath and touched her arm lightly. “You don’t have any reason to be scared of me and neither does Carla. But I need to know if she doesn’t want to marry me, if she isn’t attracted to me.”

Ines shook her head. “Of course, Carla wants to marry you. Almost all the girls are attracted to you, even if you act like you don’t notice. Your aloofness is driving them crazy. You should hear the speculations making the rounds. It’s cringe worthy. Even Carla sometimes falls trap to them.”

“What rumors?”

Ines bit her lip. “I’d rather not say.”

“Ines,” I said firmly.

“Honestly,” Ines said, flushing. “I’d rather not say.”

“I need to know the rumors making the rounds about me, especially if Carla buys into them.”

Ines looked away. “It’s making the rounds that you’re so obsessed with work and so untouched by human emotion that you don’t require any kind of physical closeness, which is why some people believe you’re…” Ines cringed.

I raised my eyebrows.

“…you’re a virgin. Carla actually asked me if you’re saving yourself for marriage.”

I stared at my sister. Her cheeks were red. She covered her mouth with her palm and laughed, eyes crinkling with amusement. Her shoulders shook. “Sorry.”

This was very typical for our society, especially for our women. They tried to spin stories around me to make me out to be some kind of dream-worthy hero when I was anything but.

“I know you’re not, which is what I told Carla—”

“You know?” I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. While I wasn’t entirely comfortable discussing my sexuality with my sister, her certainty intrigued me.

She blinked, lowering her hand. “You are?” Her shock made the corner of my mouth twitch. I only looked at her and slowly her face morphed to confusion. “You’re toying with me.”

I was, but it was good to see the weight of the last few days fall off her.

She shook her head. “You can’t be. Why would you be? If I could choose the person and even enjoy it like men do, then I wouldn’t wait either.” Her eyes widened. “I’ll wait of course. You know I will. It’s not like it’s something I’m looking forward to.”

She grimaced and turned her back to me. “I’m sorry. You should go now.”

I touched her shoulder. “Ines, calm down. I understand. You don’t have to fear my reaction. I’m not Father.”

She nodded slowly and peered up.

I felt compelled to give her a bit of the truth. “You are right, I’m not saving myself for marriage. Even if I wanted to, it wouldn’t be allowed in our circles. My first experience wasn’t by my choice nor did I enjoy it. As is habit, our father like every father in the Outfit takes his son to a whorehouse and pays for his first woman. I was very young, and would have preferred choosing a woman for myself.”

Ines turned to me slowly, her face shifting to compassion.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. You are right, as a man, I have the chance to enjoy myself before marriage, but marriage doesn’t mean you won’t enjoy yourself too. Pietro is a good man.”

“Dante!” Ines cried and pointed at the door. “Now you really must leave.”

I walked out and she followed, her fingers gripping the edge of the door tightly as she closed it until only a sliver of her face peeked out. “Will Father allow me to marry Pietro?”

“Do you want to marry Pietro?”

“He’s good looking.” She swallowed. “He’s a good man?”

He was a Made Man. “He’ll be good to you.”

“Then I want to marry him.”

I nodded. “You will.”

After breakfast, I went into Father’s office. Mother was there as well. She wrung her hands. “People consider it bad luck.”

“What do they consider bad luck?” I asked as I stepped in.

“That Jacopo died so soon after your father agreed to give Ines to him. She could be cursed.”

Mother’s superstition astonished me, even after all this time.

Father’s eyes pierced me. “A curse requires a higher power having a hand in Jacopo’s end, but it wasn’t God who struck him down, right, Dante?”

“Right. The Bratva isn’t any more heaven-sent than we are.”

Father’s smile was stiff, his eyes reptile-like in their scrutiny of me.

“I worry—” Mother began.

“Worry about clothes and stitching, not about things beyond your understanding,” Father said.

Mother nodded and scurried away.

“Pietro asked for Ines’ hand twice. Even this ridiculous curse rumor won’t dissuade him.”

“I have other offers I need to take into consideration as well.”

I stepped close to the desk. Maybe he was trying to punish me through Ines once more. I’d not allow it. “Say yes to Pietro.”

His eyes flashed with anger. “Careful.”

“A king without an heir reigns over a kingdom doomed to fall. I’m willing to risk the plunge. Are you?”

It was the only threat I’d utter. Father held my gaze, trying to gauge my seriousness then he smiled stiffly. “Pietro is the best choice on the table anyway. Why don’t you tell him the good news? He can have Ines next year. We’d set the wedding date for August.”

“Father, Ines will be only seventeen then.”

“And marriage age and age of consent are sixteen in Minnesota where she’ll live with Pietro. I expect him to move to Minneapolis and prepare to take over from his father in the next couple of years.”

“Do you expect me to take over as Capo soon after my wedding to Carla as well?” Of course, I knew the answer. My pleasant question was meant to provoke.

“Being the Boss of the Outfit is quite a different matter.”

Father thought it would draw less negative attention to him if he was referred to as Boss, not Capo, as if anyone was fooled by the false packaging. I gave a curt nod. “I’ll meet with Pietro now.”

I didn’t wait for his dismissal and left. On my way to my car, I sent Pietro a short text asking him to meet me in fifteen minutes at the bar in the Bologna, the casino he managed at the moment. When I entered the place, which had an annoying lava lamp theme, Pietro already perched on a stool. I headed for him and sat down beside him. He turned. Today his hair was immaculate and his clothes perfectly ironed. “I heard Jacopo was killed by a Bratva bullet yesterday.”

A Bratva bullet, not a Bratva soldier. “It was unfortunate.”

Pietro smiled. I motioned for the barkeeper to give me an espresso like Pietro.

“Father agreed to give Ines to you.”

Pietro’s expression brightened. “He does?”

“Next year, August.”

Pietro froze. “I’d prefer to marry her the year after when she’s eighteen, Dante.”

“My father insists on the date, and that you move to Minneapolis right after the wedding and prepare to become Underboss.”

Pietro looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t feel comfortable being married to Ines when she’s only seventeen.”

“I assume because of the sexual aspect of your marriage,” I said in a low voice, even if I bristled at the idea of it.

Pietro gave me a pained look.

“We don’t have the bloody sheets tradition anymore. You can wait the ten months until Ines’ birthday. Marriage doesn’t mean you have to have sex.”

Pietro stared down at the bar. “Dante,” he said quietly, but the doubt rang loud in that one word. He raised his head.

I wasn’t blind. Ines was a very beautiful woman. Her blonde hair and blue eyes were desired by many men, and her tall frame added to her appeal. Pietro would be as good a husband as a man of his or my disposition could be. He was also a man—a man who’d have the right to a very beautiful woman he’d share a house and bed with.

“I’d never force Ines, you know that.”

“Ines has been brought up to be dutiful and her duty is to give her body to you. Force won’t be necessary, Pietro. You know that as well as I do.” My voice had become sharper.

“I don’t know if… if I’m strong enough to resist that long.” He searched my eyes. “Could you resist for months if your beautiful wife shared a bed with you every night?”

I prided myself on my self-control. Was I absolutely sure I could resist? No, but I wouldn’t reveal that to Pietro. “Yes.”

Pietro shook his head with a chuckle. “Then you’re a stronger man than me.”

Their wedding took place next year in August as Father insisted.

I kept an eye on Ines and Pietro at the wedding, trying to read their interactions to gauge how forceful my warning for Pietro would have to be. My eyes drifted to Carla who stood by herself, clinging to a glass of water. Her parents were dancing. I made a beeline for her. She spotted me and quickly averted her eyes in the demure way she had. I held out my hand. “Would you dance with me?”

“Of course.”

We danced for a while in silence before I bridged the subject that had been bothering me. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”

Her eyes grew wide. “Absolutely. We marry in three months… do we?”

I inclined my head. It had taken considerable effort to convince Father to have the wedding the same year as Ines’ but I didn’t want to wait. Carla’s parents were very conservative and she had already turned eighteen several months ago. “You seemed reluctant.”

“I’m not, honestly. I’m only keeping my distance considering we’re not married yet.” She gave me her first honest smile of the day.

“Three months.”

She smiled a bit wider, blushing, and nodded, and as usual, a sense of calm flooded me in her presence. After my dance with Carla, I headed toward my brother-in-law to deal with the second matter on my list.

Pietro laughed at something Rocco said. Since the old Scuderi’s death and Rocco had taken over as Consigliere his demeanor had changed. Now nobody called him Squirt anymore. Freed of his father and brother, he showed that he was a Scuderi through and through, not as depraved as them but cunning and brutal. A good Consigliere, one who was loyal to me, not my father.

“I’d like to have a word with you.”

Pietro nodded and followed me to a secluded area.

“You remember a year ago you told me Jacopo was a monster and that Ines shouldn’t be given to him.”

Pietro watched Ines talk to Carla before he turned back to me, brows pulling together. “Of course. I’m glad he got killed.”

“I hope you’ll prove tonight and every day that follows that you are a better man than Jacopo, that you deserve my sister,” I said quietly, stepping closer to him.

Pietro held my gaze. “If I don’t, will the Bratva give me an early end as well?”

“I hope it won’t come to it.”

“It won’t. And not because I fear the consequences.” His expression was hard. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to my wife.”

I was tense, had been all night and all morning. Pietro and Ines finally stepped in and applause sounded. I didn’t join in. Pietro had his arm wrapped possessively around Ines’ waist, but Ines was leaning into him, seeking his closeness and protection as the force of everyone’s attention hit her. She held her head high despite the slight blush on her cheeks. She peered up at Pietro without a hint of fear and he returned her gaze with adoration. When he noticed my attention, his expression smoothed, turned into blank calm. He gave me a curt nod, and I returned it because one look at my sister told me he’d treated her the way she deserved it. Maybe betraying the Outfit for my sister would eventually come with a price, but I was willing to pay it.

Ines—the first woman I betrayed the Outfit for.

It was only the beginning.