Casso nods, looking thoughtful. Over by the villa, out near the pool, several loud whoops and a happy scream echoes out over the rocks. I spot figures moving around and someone jumps in with a big splash. The tall, gangly one is probably Emilio, Karah’s oldest boy at seventeen, and the other one is likely Dom, Casso’s oldest at sixteen. Those two are closer than anyone in this damn place, like they’re twins instead of cousins. That yell is likely Camilla, Casso’s fourteen-year-old daughter.
Children swarm through Villa Bruno these days. Eight of them in total, from seventeen on down to twelve. My siblings pumped out their broods and now the place up there’s crowded.
That’s one reason I moved out here a few years back. It got hard, being around growing families and their kids all the time. I kept getting questions, Gavino, when are you going to settle down, Gavino, when are you going to have children, the usual bullshit, and I just kept feeling like I was in the way.
So after Sonia died, I convinced Casso to build me a little house away from everyone. It’s barely more than a bungalow, but it’s private and it’s mine, and I needed it in those days. I couldn’t stand mourning around a bunch of little fucking kids.
“Keep on top of it,” Casso says, getting to his feet with a sigh. “Malcolm’s a goddamn eel. I don’t feel like getting fucked by his slithering tentacles.”
“He’s an eel or an octopus?”
“All of the above.” He sighs and leans on the railing. “Whatever sea creature is worse, that’s him.”
“He’s a kraken then, understood.”
“Karah wants you to come visit the house.” Casso doesn’t look at me as he says it. I glance away, toward the pool where the kids are splashing and laughing. “I told her I’d ask and now I am.”
“I’ll stop by later.”
“You never do. You don’t need to bullshit.”
“There’s just a lot of activity going on in there.”
“Yeah, I get it. You think I haven’t noticed? The villa turned into a damn zoo.”
“Your fault. You people kept having kids.”
He laughs softly. “We did. We were young and hopeful.”
“What are you now?”
“Older and still hopeful.”
“You’re the only ones then.”
“Gavino, so fucking jaded. Things are good for the family. We’re strong right now.” He looks at me, frowning. “You really should come up to visit. The kids are always asking what Uncle Gavino does alone in his house all the time. They think you’re weird.”
“I am weird.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just angry.”
“Same difference.”
He shakes his head and walks down the porch. “I remember a Gavino that used to love bowling, drinking, fighting, and laughing.”
“I still like bowling and drinking and fighting.”
He grins at me and hesitates before walking off. “By the way, there’s this political thing I want you to attend in a few days.”
My eyebrows raise. “You want me to do politics?”
“Malcolm’s going to be there. He’s sponsoring the new DA’s run.”
“That Andres Killen guy? What a weird name for a DA.”
“That’s the one. Show up, make nice, be your usual charming self. Show Malcolm we’re serious about being more than just another crime family.”
“There’s nothing wrong with what we are,” I say quietly and, in the distance, one of the kids screams.