Chapter 8
Nico
I’m like a Jedi knight. I swear I feel the ripple in the force field when my brother enters the state. I am no longer king of my hill.
The big dog is in town.
Junior is the first born, ten years older than I am, and scary as fuck. As a kid, there were times I was sure he would kill me. He’d hold my head under the water in the pool until I started to pass out, or sit on me and box my ears until I’d do anything and everything he asked me to. Our father didn’t tell him to lay off, probably because he raised Junior and my other brothers the same way. Violence is part of our world. It was part of our family life, too.
I never took my shit out on my younger brother, though. I looked out for Stefano, protected him from our big brothers, cousins and father. And in return, he became forever loyal to me. We were three years apart, but tight. His faith in me is probably the reason I had the courage to try to do something different instead of following in my father’s footsteps.
And I’ve been minimizing my success in the family’s eyes ever since. Because the last thing I want is the rest of them moving in on my territory.
So Junior’s arrival has me on edge.
I sent Tony in a limo to pick them up at the hangar and he texts me to say he’s on his way to the casino. I head down to the front to greet them personally, because family gets the royal treatment.
My employees greet me with deference. The valet parking attendants and bellhops stop their chatter and stand erect like fucking British soldiers protecting the queen.
When the limo pulls up, I open the back door myself, helping my ma out of the vehicle. I get four cheek kisses, back and forth, and a whole lot of greeting with broad hand gestures.
Even being around the soldiers I took from Chicago—Tony, Leo and my cousin Sal—I’m stunned by how Sicilian my mom is. Vegas has rubbed off on me, softened the old world air that still hangs on Junior and my mother.
I get a back-thumping hug from Junior. Tony tosses the keys to the valet and makes sure the bellhop gets their bags from the trunk. I escort them up to their luxury suites, listening to my mom’s chatter the entire way about the latest on every family member. I’m only half-listening until she says, “The Pachino girl is out of college now, Nico.”
Only long practice of hiding emotions from the narrowed gaze of my big brother keeps me from showing anything on my face. We’re in the elevator, which makes it all the more oppressive. “Oh yeah? Good for her.”
“You need to make contact with Giuseppe,” Junior says. “I already have.”
The muscles in my neck stiffen. Now is the time. I’ve been silent on this issue far too long. “Yeah, I will. I’m not marrying her.”
My mother goes still and Junior rotates fully to face me. “The fuck you’re not.”
“You’re not boss,” I snarl.
Junior’s expression turns cold and hard. I’ve seen him kill wearing that same deadened look.
I shove my hands in my pockets and lower my gaze, forcing myself to appear more congenial. “Listen, I’ll talk to Pops about it. I think we can come to some other arrangement that’s equally beneficial for the Tacones and the Pachinos.”
There. I said it. And that’s all I have in my defense. I don’t have any other ideas because this is an issue I’ve purposely refused to think about for most of my life.
The elevator arrives on their floor and I escort them out.
Junior snorts. “You’d better do it soon, then. I talked to Pachino last week. He’s waiting for completion.”
I find it hard to believe Pachino is that anxious when no one has said a word to me about it since the girl turned eighteen. If they were in a rush, they would’ve pushed the issue four years ago.
I run my fingers through my hair.
Cazzo.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“You’d better.” The flint in his voice is the kind that brings men to their knees.
I slide the keycard into the lock of my ma’s room and open the door. “After you,” I murmur and she starts up again on her breathless report about everything and everyone back home.
Chapter 9
Sondra
“I changed my mind,” I tell Corey, my cell phone pinched between my ear and my shoulder as I pace around on the balcony of my Bellissimo suite. “I don’t want to go on this date.”
“Okay, so you don’t have to,” she says patiently. “You don’t have to stay there. You don’t have to work there. I’ll come pick you up right now.”
She stopped by after her shift earlier and I filled her in on the latest. Now I’ve called her at home to talk some more.