Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
But Vito keeps up the patter through breakfast. His wife, Tanya, comes down, a pretty older woman who fusses over me and acts like it’s totally normal for a random girl to be sitting in her kitchen. I’m actually kind of shocked that Vito’s such a family man, and I tell him so later when we’re sitting out back on his little deck drinking more espresso.
“You have to be this way in our world,” he says, nodding to himself like it’s a truth so obvious that he shouldn’t have to say it out loud. “A guy can run around and fuck women and screw up for only so long before nobody takes him seriously anymore. You want to get ahead in the Famiglias, you’d better have a wife.”
I think back to my deal with Simon. “I guess that makes sense. I mean, Simon married me for a similar reason.”
He gestures at me. “That boy gets it. His old man, Alessandro, is going through something bad right now, but Simon is prepared. He knows what the Famiglia needs. I’m just an old fucking prick that talks too loud and likes to cook, but I’m not afraid of change. If we don’t keep moving, we fucking die. That’s the truth.”
“I have to admit, you’re pretty deep.”
He beams at me. “Ah, go fuck yourself.”
I spend the morning with the loud Capo listening to him tell stories about the good old days. It gives me some perspective. Simon was raised in the Famiglia from a little kid, and he’s been around the mafia since he could walk and talk. The life is in his blood, at least that’s what Vito says.
And it makes sense. This is Simon’s world. These are his people. Maybe his father’s in some trouble right now and there are bad people that want to hurt them all, but that doesn’t mean Simon’s going to walk away. He’s actively trying to fix things.
It’s part of what I love about him.
There’s courage in what he’s doing. It isn’t easy, going against your father, against the man you were raised to respect and love. He must be torn up inside, and I make a promise to myself that if he comes home—no, when he comes home—I’m going to make sure he knows that he isn’t taken for granted. Not by me.
A door slams outside. I perk up like a lonely puppy left in the house for the first time. I hurry inside as Tanya opens the door and Simon comes inside. He looks haggard, and I’m pretty sure there’s blood flecked on his pants, but I throw myself at him like we’ve been apart for ages and kiss him hard on the mouth, not caring if Vito’s whole family is watching and his tween daughter’s making gagging noises.
“I missed you too,” Simon says and his eyes are sparkling.
“Don’t do that again.” I bury my face into his chest. “Okay? Just don’t.”
He says nothing and I’m guessing he can’t make that promise.
Vito asks him how things went and Simon fills him in on what happened out back. I listen and try not to think about the trail of bodies he’s leaving in his wake.
“He mentioned an attack,” Simon says, pacing across the small yard. “But the fucker got himself killed before I could find out what he meant.”
“Yeah, got himself killed,” Vito echoes, smirking. “Wonder how.”
“Santoro’s smart. He’s going to smell this fight a mile away and figure out how he can sink his knife into our side. I just don’t know how yet.”
Vito grunts and doesn’t speak at first, his arms crossed over his big chest, resting on his massive belly. He looks like an Italian Buddha, but with more jewelry. “I know you’re right, but Santoro can’t be stupid enough to think he can actually win this war.”
Simon’s expression darkens. “With my father in charge? That’s why he’s been after me. Kill me and the war’s done.”
Vito doesn’t argue with that.
Soon they’re back to planning. I spend some time inside with Lucia and she shows me some games she’s playing on the Switch, and the day passes like that. Tanya cooks an enormous lunch, enough to feed the whole block, and a bunch of guys start showing up. I recognize the type, and they’re all very respectful toward Vito and especially toward Simon. They’re soldiers, maybe low level even, and Tanya explains that they do this most days, have some of the lower-ranked boys over for a good meal. “Family building,” she explains as she pulls a lasagna from the oven and puts me to work setting the table.
I can almost forget the bodies from the night before. With the laughter around me, some wine and a few borderline inappropriate stories especially considering Lucia is lurking around the edges of the gathering, I can push aside those mangled corpses. I can pretend like I didn’t see Simon sink a knife into a man’s throat.