Making of Them (Beating the Biker 3)

“I’ll treasure it always.”

“Well,” Vits said roughly, “do with it what you want. Sell it, get what you want.”

“

No, Uncle Vits,” Chrissy whispered. “It’s perfect.”

He waved them off, as if he couldn’t take the sappy moment. “Get out of here. I have business to do.”

Saks wrapped his arm around her protectively as they walked out of the back room and then the shop. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and smiled at her.

“Damn, you’re good,” he said with a half chuckle. “If we stayed a half-minute more we’d have seen him cry.”

“You’re awful,” Chrissy admonished. “But you might be right.”

“That’s one down. Let’s go see your father.

CHAPTER TWENTY

A single, reassuring breath was all Chrissy allowed herself time for before stepping into her father’s hospital room. “Hey, Mom. Hi, Dad.”

Her mother’s eyes widened the moment she looked up to see Saks at her daughter’s side. Saks mused it was hard for the woman not to recognize him since he wore his club jacket. But who stood with her mouth open was dark-haired Gloria. She smirked at them as if she’d won the lottery.

Vincenzo’s head lolled to the side, and his lips drew into a tight line. Saks didn’t blame him. If he had a daughter who brought home a man like himself, he wouldn’t like him either.

“And who do you bring?” he said. Vince squinted at Saks.

“Anthony Parks, though he goes by the nickname Saks.”

Vincenzo Serafini’s mouth formed a small “o” before it quirked.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Saks? He leaned on Saks’ name like he was muscling some goombah, giving him a difficult time.

“I’ll come to the point. Chrissy and I are getting married.”

“What? You don’t ask me for permission?” Vince’s voice shot up in indignation.

“You already gave that permission when you offered up your daughter as a peace offering to my family.”

“Saks,” Chrissy warned as her hand settled against his arm.

“No, Chrissy. Let’s call it what it is: a damn shitty way to open up the lines of communication between two halves of an organization that never should have split.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Chrissy,” Saks said. “Show him the ring.”

Chrissy pulled the box out of her pocket and opened it.

“Do you recognize this?”

Suspicion glimmered in her father’s eyes, but he said nothing.

“This could have been your mother’s engagement ring. Only she got another from your father. You people have been lying to us all along. The Roccos and Serafini were one organization at one time. Only this,” he pointed to the ring, “broke it up.”

“We never talked about it,” Vince said. “And when my mother died, my father barely talked about her at all.” His voice was thick, and his hand strayed to one of his eyes, wiping something away.

“And now my uncle gave that ring to Chrissy. He’s old and has no children. My father will continue to run the business, but Dad and Vits both recognize I won’t follow them into it. So, he has no heir. There is no reason for the Serafini and Roccos to be apart anymore. So, he engineered pushing Chrissy and me together. Maybe he thought a Rocco man couldn’t resist a Serafini woman. I guess he was right.”