“What’s wrong? Where is your mother?” he asks in a rough, raspy voice.
I shake my head.
“I don’t know what is going on, I was told to meet them in the dining hall. But something is happening, I can feel it,” I explain, pulling the sash of my robe tighter. His shoulders relax, his black shirt releasing the grip it had on his strong chest while he shoves his gun back in its holster. He was made for this life, one of guns and mayhem, it’s clear to see. I can’t help but wonder what he’s been up to since I’ve shut things down in the Bravado family.
Holding his hand out to me, his bright green eyes flick to mine. His sharp jaw speckled with scruff, he smirks.
“Well, let’s go find out,” he says confidently.
Coming into the dining room, the large mahogany table takes up a majority of the exquisite room. Wall paper of gold, and a chandelier of crystal pricking the final touches of its ever so posh essence. Pulling a chair out I sit, my mother and grandmother across from me, their faces wrinkled with concern. Dominic stands right behind me in waiting for them to spill what’s going on. His stance almost as if he’s my protector is very much wanted right now.
My mother stretches her hands across the table, her name brand bracelets clanking against the top, making the gesture of wanting to hold my palm in hers.
“Leona—” Her voice cracks with hesitation, her face looking older this morning as she hasn’t had time to put on her face.
“An opportunity has presented itself,” my grandmother takes over, and my eyes sweep to her, her voice holding more fortitude than my mother’s. “As you know, we have many enemies even without us being out of the game as long as we have.”
“And?” I urge her to get on with what’s going on.
“Emilio DeAngelo paid us a visit offering us peace if you take the hand of their oldest son.”
My mouth drops, the wind knocked from my lungs with the heinous offer she just vomited across the table. We never partake in the immoral practices of our famiglias, and she’s never given the impression she’s wanted anything to do with my father’s legacy. So why now? How could she pawn me off like an object rather than her daughter?
“This is a good thing, cara.” My grandmother calls me dear in Italian as if the soothing language will soften the blow. “Both of our families can come together as one now, there will be peace, and we can get back to doing what we were meant to be doing.” My grandmother’s explanation laces around my neck like a noose, demanding I understand that this is for the good of the family. For me to know that my place in this family is to be a savage boss and work the streets just as well as a man, or move over and let a man take over. “Your uncles, cousins, your family, want to work, sweet girl, it’s what we were born to do. Having Kieran by your side—”
“Kieran, the man you all said swore to kill me and my family if I so much as turned my back, you’re wanting me to trust him? No, to marry him!” Sarcasm drips from my voice like the black candles who dripped down the silver candelabras.
My mother doesn’t say anything, she looks the other way, her hands now in her lap.
“And you, you agreed to this?” My voice raises, surprised my mother would so willingly offer up my life to another who seeks much darker days in the life of the mafia than our very own. Her eyes cast down to her lap as if her hands are far more entertaining than looking me in the eye.
“Leona, I just wish for peace. I don’t want any of this, you know that,” she says quietly before looking up at me with sad eyes. I feel torn. Like a game of tug-of-war and I’m the rope being slid down everyone’s greasy sweaty hands, slowly being pulled apart for their own amusement. A sudden rage has my heart feeling like it’s about to burst inside my chest, and I try and take a deep breath to calm myself before I pass out.
“Leona, maybe it’s not such a—”
Drawing my gun from under my robe I quickly stand, turn, and shove it under Dominic’s chin, my teeth gritting. Anguish and something dark and unfamiliar pulsed within my veins, fury stirring within me as I threatened my cousin’s life. He stiffens, his chin lifting as far as it can go. My actions surprise me, my temper consuming my senses.
“This family has mistaken my silence for weakness when in reality, I’m the toughest and wisest of us all,” I growl under my breath. They’re all so eager to get back to unlawful ways, but patience is a virtue that even I know pays off in the end. They’ve given up, they’re confident my father is dead and want to do business as if his place is just as replaceable as a kid working at a fast food restaurant. I still believe he’s alive and going to come back and take his place like he’s meant to. I refuse to believe he’s gone until I’ve laid eyes on what remains of his corpse.