I light the cigar and take little puffs to get it started. It tastes like ass.
“The five families are always at war with each other,” Al says, settling back in his chair. “This is the closest to a peace we’ve had between the five in a decade. There’s just one holdout.”
I nod, waiting.
“The Valentis and the Pomponios have been killing each other for ten years,” he says. “We’re both sick of it. We’re ready for an alliance. We just need a symbolic union, a signature in blood, a gesture of goodwill between us.”
I nod again, waiting with a cigar in one hand and a scotch in the other. I can sense it coming. He’s going to ask me to kill someone from another family, a Pomponio’s enemy. The enemy of my friend is my enemy, after all.
“Mr. Pomponio has offered his daughter,” Al says,
I stare at him for a second, the implications of his words not quite sinking in. Instead, my mind races through the facts, laying them out as carefully as my analytical little brother would. I’ve always tried to keep up with the five families, but the Valentis are the ones I studied most closely. I wrack my brain for what I know about the Pomponios. I know more about the men, the mafia side.
Anthony Pomponio’s son was killed about ten years ago. His only daughter is a notorious tabloid-courting socialite my sister would have known more about than I do. She would have studied her fashion choices, her misdeeds recounted in the gossip rags. But whatever she knew about Eliza Pomponio, it can’t help me. I know next to nothing.
“To be frank, I think he expected me to take her for myself,” Al says when I don’t respond. “But I promised to love one woman forever, and I intend to take that promise to the grave.”
I nod again, muttering an apology for his loss. Everyone knows Al’s wife died a few years back.
Al continues without acknowledging my condolences. “Not to mention she’s a more suitable age for you. What do I need with a wild eighteen-year-old?”
My chest begins to tighten as I become aware of the guillotine of his words hanging over my head. What doIneed with a wild eighteen-year-old? I’d rather kill a man. I was in charge of protecting one girl in my life, and she wound up at the bottom of the ocean somewhere, her body never found. I’m sure as shit not keen on repeating that mistake.
“Sir,” I begin. “I’m honored you’d consider me for such an important assignment as establishing peace between our families. But I’m not sure I’m the man for the job. I expected you to have me take down an enemy.”
“I know it’s a bigger job than most get in a lifetime,” Al says, his face entirely serious and even sympathetic. “A hit takes a little planning, a moment to execute. This… This assignment takes a lifetime.”
I swallow hard, the implications of his words sinking in. He expects me to be around for a lifetime. He’s not planning to use me as disposable muscle. But there’s one other option that seems more likely than him grooming me to take over.
“Is Mr. Pomponio hoping to do what you did when you married Ma off to my father?” I ask, just to clarify. “Get her out of danger, away from the Life?”
Al puffs on his cigar. “No. Eliza’s not like your mother. I like to keep the women in this family safe, get them out of danger when I can. Anthony has a different philosophy.”
He doesn’t frown, just states it matter-of-factly, but I can sense the disapproval there under the surface. He may be ready to make peace with the Pomponios, but that doesn’t mean he likes them.
“Anything I need to know about him before I marry his daughter?” I ask. “Or her?”
“Eliza’s a smart girl,” Al says. “She knows what she’s doing. And she knows more about the Life than half the men in my family.”
I know he’s not just talking blood family. This could work to my advantage, I realize. It might be nice to have a partner who knows about the Life, who can clue me in before I do something stupid without realizing mafia etiquette and get myself killed. If Al’s planning to keep me in the middle of things, I’ll need all the help I can get. Hell, just marrying her would make me indispensable for a minute, enough time to get my feet under me and prove myself. They’re not going to pick off the guy who’s supposed to make peace—at least until the peace is established.
And then there’s the matter of what this means to the Valenti family. Uncle Al could have chosen anyone, but he chose me. There’s got to be some higher ranking single guys in the family. Is he positioning me for better things than a soldier—maybe even an heir? I run through the family tree, ticking off potential heirs in my mind. He has only daughters, so no heirs there. But Ma has several male cousins, men ranging in age from late thirties to early fifties, who will all be vying for the position. There’s also one grandson a few years older than me, though you’d never know Al was a grandfather by looking at him.
He’s in his fifties, but he’s still tall and broad shouldered and intimidating as fuck. If anything, the silver streaks in his hair only make him look more formidable. Not a lot of men last that long in this profession, let alone his position. Do I want that position, that responsibility? One thing’s clear. He’s at least tossing my name in the hat with this move. A great nephew isn’t close to the throne, but by tying me so closely to the don of another family, he’s shoved me halfway to the front of the line. It’s up to me to decide what to do with that advantage.
After a pause, I nod. There was never really a choice about this. It was probably decided before I showed up at all. I know better than to argue with Al Valenti, even if his decision knocks my entire life off its axis. There’s no going back from this. There’s no out. Divorce is not an option for us, so for the rest of my life, I’m going to be tied to this rich party girl who has nothing in common with me.
Not only that, but from the moment I put a ring on the daughter of a don, my life will be a tightrope walk. I don’t just have to please Al Valenti now. I have to please Anthony Pomponio, too. Everyone in New York will be looking to me to make peace between these families.
It’s up to me to decide what to do with that advantage, too.
If I fail, I know what happens.
If I succeed… Well, it’s a pretty nice boast to be able to say you stopped a war. And hell, it’s an arranged marriage. It’s not like we have to love each other. We don’t even have to like each other. This is a business deal, nothing more. Having nothing in common will make it easy to keep things professional. Her family will recognize that, too. They don’t expect more. Her father probably just wants someone to stop her partying, which is why he thought Uncle Al would be a good choice. That should be easy enough for anyone, though. The hard part will be keeping both families happy, ending the war.
Al Valenti’s a smart man. He knew who to pick for that job. After all, I’ve always protected my family, and this is no different. Now, I have a new family. To protect them, to keep more blood from being shed, more lives from being lost, I have to end the war, bring the rival families together. If that means teaching a spoiled little mafia princess to be a wife, that’s what I’ll do. Love plays no part in the Life, and it will play no part in mine.
four