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Chapter Fifteen

Ellie

All things considered, the conversation with my sons went better than it could’ve. It was tense at times, but it didn’t explode into an argument. I don’t think they’re going to say more once I’m alone, and Enrique can’t hear. They don’t approve, but they’re closer to accepting it. For now, I’ll take that.

I knew where Enrique’s house is, but I’ve never been here.

Holy fuck.

So, this is how the other half lives.

I lived in a three-thousand-square-foot home and felt it was more than big enough for five people. We all had space, which was great. We also had plenty to clean. Tommaso, Frank, and Tori all live in homes like the one I did. Theirs are a bit bigger than mine was. But the houses around me are bonified mansions. They’d swallow my current house and my old house in one bite. They must be seven- to nine-thousand-square-feet homes.

I can’t imagine rattling around in such a humongous house on my own. But as we arrive at the gates, and I see the driveway more clearly, I realize why. There are four cars in the driveway.

I’m not feeling anywhere near as confident as I walk into Enrique’s home for the first time. We’ve taken more showers together than any two people need in two days, but shower sex has never been that good. If he didn’t already carry me around whenever he wants, it would’ve terrified me the first time he picked me up with the slick shower floor. He swears he can carry all his nephews and that Alejandro—who I’ve seen—is the biggest. I don’t want to know if he’s practiced carrying them or needed to. I won’t ask.

But while Enrique finished our last shower alone—much to his disapproval—I stared at my closet, hating everything. I finally settled on a pair of capris and a floral top that covers my ta-ta’s completely. I don’t need anyone thinking I’m inappropriate with my clothing. I’m already that because of my family.

“ Carino , you look beautiful. I won’t leave you alone with them. I promise.”

He kisses my cheek, and I force myself to relax. No matter how many times I’ve faced death, this is the worst. It’s not one person gunning for me. It’s nine. It’s a fucking firing squad.

“Thank you, Daddy.” I whisper as I kiss his cheek in return.

He gives my hand a squeeze, then wraps his arm around my waist as we head toward voices I think are in the dining room. They’re already here.

“Don’t worry. If they don’t remember to call before they arrive from now on, I’ll change the locks.”

I love how when he smiles, creases form around his eyes and mouth. It’s sexy as all get out, and I’m certain it makes women wet and men hard, but it reassures me. He pats my ass as we approach the group.

I try to step away, not wanting to antagonize anyone by walking in with Enrique’s arm around me, but he pulls me to his side. His lips come to my ear.

“No one will stop me from touching you whenever and however I want. I will not hide how I feel about you from my family. This isn’t about publicly claiming you, even though I will. This is about me finally being with someone I share genuine affection with. Someone who makes me happy when I’m beside them.”

“I don’t want to anger them even more.”

“That’s for them to work through. My cartel. My home. My woman.”

He’s still smiling, but he’s dead serious.

I can’t react because we’re stepping through the archway, and there are nine people staring at us. I offer as warm a smile as I can muster. I sweep my gaze over the people gathered before me, but when my gaze meets Alejandro’s, his eyes widen. He shifts his focus to Enrique, and his shock morphs to anger.

“Alejandro, she could’ve shot you, but she didn’t. Be glad she figured out we’re related.”

Mothertrucker.

That isn’t the introduction I wanted.

“What?” An elegant woman pushes past two men to stand in front of Alejandro.

Marvelous.

“Catalina—”

“Mama, I was safe. But I nearly killed tío’s ?—”

Alejandro looks away from his mom to Enrique to me, and back to Enrique. He doesn’t know what to call me. I don’t know what I am since we’re in a committed relationship I swore I didn’t want.

“ Novia .” Girlfriend.

I know that one. Better than something like lady friend. That would make it sound like he’s a widower, and I’m eighty.

Alejandro looks back at me, and there’s something akin to wonder in his expression. I brace myself.

“I went in that room afterward. The angle was tight, and the hole was meant for an eye not a rifle muzzle. You must have stood on a rickety crate. Knowing that makes your accuracy even more impressive.”

“Thank you.” I think.

I’ll take it as a compliment, but I’m uncertain that’s what it was. Catalina, who must be Alejandro’s mother, observes me. Judges me.

“How did you know who my son was?” Her accent is thicker than Enrique’s, reminding me she didn’t move here until much later in life compared to Enrique and Luis.

“There was something familiar about him that reminded me of Enrique. He was never my target. When he turned toward me, the wall hid me, but I could see him clearly. They’re two peas in a pod. It was like looking at a younger version of Enrique. There was no doubt who he was, even though I didn’t know which nephew.” I lift my chin, and my tone hardens. “I would never do that to Enrique.”

I dare them to accuse me of something—anything—that betrays Enrique. I don’t feel as defiant as I sound or look. That doesn’t mean I don’t speak the truth.

“You’re a Vizzini.”

I know the man who just spoke must be Luis. The family resemblance among all the men is uncanny. Luis and Enrique could be twins if Luis’s hair was a little darker. There’s another man standing beside a seated woman who looks tired. It’s unquestionable that the younger one is Luis’s son. It’s like a look back in time for Luis and a fast forward for his son.

“By marriage, I was. My family’s ties with the Vizzinis go back generations. Ever since my father’s family came to America from Sicily. My mother’s side of the family only goes back to the fifties.”

“But you’re not a Vizzini anymore?” Luis isn’t wasting a minute to launch the Inquisition.

“You know I live under an alias since you couldn’t find me. I could’ve changed my last name back to my maiden one, but I want the same last name as my sons. My father is Pauly Luigiano.” I let that bomb explode for a moment. “My maiden name is probably more dangerous for me on my own than being a Vizzini.”

The Vizzini name protects the bearer because they’re close enough to the don’s family to still have it. There’re plenty who hold grudges against my father for what he’s done to men who wronged the don’s family over the past fifty years. The Luigiano name would paint a bullseye on me for anyone who wants revenge against my father.

“Let me introduce everyone before we dive into that, manito .”

I guess manito is the diminutive for little brother. I’m learning already.

Enrique introduces me to his other sister, Luciana, and his sister-in-law, Margherita. Then I meet Pablo, his heir apparent. Is part of his suspicion that I’ll have a son who’ll usurp his position? He needs to know not only can’t I have more kids, I wouldn’t even if I could. Not just because Enrique is who he is. That phase of my life is over.

Javier, Joaquin, and Jorge look similar to the others, but not as much as Alejandro and Pablo look to Enrique and Luis. They must take after their father more. I know their mother is a widow, so that explains why Luciana is alone, but no one says where Catalina’s husband is. She’s wearing rings.

“The rest of this conversation with Ellie will take place in my office.”

I don’t like how Enrique summarily dismisses his sisters. If we’re moving to his office, they’re not invited. I turn toward him, and he realizes I don’t approve.

“Tell me where to go, but I’m going to speak to your sisters first. Alone.”

It’s like the air is collectively sucked out of the room as everyone inhales a silent gasp. If he wants a partner of equals like he said, then I won’t defer to him on everything in the privacy of our homes. I won’t argue with him in front of anyone, but I don’t take orders outside of sex and my safety.

“It’s down the hall at the end. Please knock first.” He kisses my cheek like he did earlier.

The men file out of the room behind them, leaving me with the three women. Javier, Alejandro, and Pablo hesitate. They fear for me alone with their mothers.

What the fuck did I just invite myself into?

I watch the men walk away until the door closes behind the last one. I join the women at the table and pull out a chair, hoping Luciana and Catalina will sit, too. Otherwise, they’re going to stare down at me literally and figuratively. I relax when they do. It definitely feels like three against one.

“I don’t know what the men would tell you if I left it up to them. I’ll tell you all I can, and I’ll answer whatever questions I can. I don’t know if Enrique told you how we met.” I pause, and Luciana shakes her head. “I was trying to clean leaves out of my gutters and was leaning way too far while standing too high on the ladder. I knew it wasn’t smart, but the company I hired cancelled. I worried about the weather changing and the gutters getting clogged when it rains. He pretty much ordered me off the ladder then did the work himself. After that, we coincidentally wound up outside at the same time. I think he timed his runs for when I walked my dog. I started timing the walks when I thought he’d go by. I enjoy his company, and we chatted about different things, but we were both evasive about family and anything too personal in our past. I did not know who your brother is. Not until he told me his last name. I recognized it.”

“Did you tell him your real one then?” Luciana definitely doesn’t trust me.

“No. As much as I enjoyed our walks, I swore off relationships. My ex-husband never physically abused me. But there was a lot of emotional abuse. He’d tell me he wouldn’t talk to me for an entire weekend if I said something he didn’t like. He’d ignore me when I spoke to him if he didn’t feel like answering. He wouldn’t make friends with my friends and made me feel guilty when I built a life without him because he refused to engage in anything that involved our boys and me. He preferred gaming. For the first ten years of our marriage, he was so addicted to his video games I feared interrupting him. Friends would say I should just throw them out. I couldn’t think of many things scarier than how he would’ve reacted to that. I was so scared of pissing him off if I bumped him in my sleep that I slept on my hands for years. He stopped asking how my day went within a couple months of getting married. It was one of the things that made me fall for him because none of the guys I dated before him asked.”

I need a moment to push aside the resentment threatening to flare my anger into a wildfire.

“He’d belittle the work I did outside of the family business, even calling it stupid and pointless. He’d blame me for his boredom when he did nothing but laze around the house on the weekends and sleep because he had nothing better to do. There was always stuff he could have helped with—something to clean, a meal to cook, laundry to put away. If he did dishes, he needed a Medal of Honor. He complained about everything and everyone. I couldn’t have a conversation with him if he was driving because he’d bitch about everyone else on the road. If we were on the phone, he’d cut me off mid-sentence to complain. I was so lonely in that marriage. I vacillated between hating him when we argued and not caring if he lived or died when we weren’t. I stayed because of my boys. If we divorced, I feared they’d be worse off if they were with just him when they’d inevitably go to his place. I feared he’d remarry, and the woman wouldn’t care about them. I worried and waited for years.”

I swallow because I’m laying shit bare I haven’t told Enrique, but I think his sisters—by blood and by marriage—will understand better, even if they’ve never been in this position.

“My boys are adults now. They have lives of their own, and they’re financially independent. I had no reason to stay, so I didn’t. Some of my wounds have healed, but they’re tender when tugged at. Others are only scabbed over. I swore I didn’t want another relationship because I wanted freedom. What I didn’t want was my heart breaking all over again. I didn’t want to commit to Enrique. We had a nasty argument because I wouldn’t agree we’re more than I wanted to admit. Because I didn’t want to commit, I kept my secrets until I couldn’t keep them anymore.”

“You sound like you’re more than a woman who married a Vizzini.” Margherita’s voice is soft, but her gaze is sharp as the blade she’s ready to stick in me if I misstep.

“I’ve told Enrique this already, and he’s probably telling your sons right now. I was Tommaso Vizzini’s accountant. The one who handled the private books when other people messed up his transactions.”

I stare at them because that’s as close to admitting what I did when I extorted the shit out of people or coerced them into paying money they didn’t want to or didn’t have.

“Women are far superior to men in most things. Their egos are just too fragile for most of them to learn that. But Tommaso knows I have better aim than even an Olympian. When it became my life or my husband’s, I learned to bend my morals. When he held my sons’ lives ransom, I let my morals burn. Only one of my sons is active, but they trained the other two. When I left my husband, I made Tommaso swear in writing in front of witnesses that he released me. He reneged and held my sons over my head, so I did one last job. It put me near Alejandro. He would have killed me before I took your son from your family, Catalina.”

“You would have left your sons without a mother?”

“I’ve taken other women’s sons from them and not heard a peep from my conscience. But I couldn’t do that to your family. I took my chances by letting Alejandro live. All I’ve ever wanted on those missions was to get home to my boys. The last time wasn’t any different, but losing your parent is life’s normal path. Losing your child should never happen. I will put my sons ahead of everyone, and Enrique knows that. But intentionally harming your family harms Enrique in a way I can’t stomach thinking about. I believe he feels the same way about your sons and me. My sons will always be Vizzinis, and your sons will always be Diazes. Right now, I’m neither. I plan to move forward, not look back.”

They listen to me, and like proper syndicate wives, I have no clue what they’re thinking.

“Why not end things when you found out who my brother is?” Luciana’s left eye narrows a sliver, and I know she wants to catch me in a lie.

“Because who he is doesn’t bother me. I’ve been around men like him my entire life. I know better than most syndicate women what the men do and what their businesses are. I told Enrique the truth about why I can accept it without telling him how I knew I could. Enrique was born into his role. He carries a heavier burden than most people can imagine. The only one in this house who will ever know is Pablo. The rest of us can only guess or assume. More than just your family relies on him. He’s responsible for thousands of people. What he wants or doesn’t want doesn’t matter if it doesn’t support the Cartel. His duty is to them before anything else. His duty is to you before anyone else. If your family is weak, then everything falls apart. If any of you walk away, you’re as good as dead. You have to remain in this world to survive. I knew the day I filed my divorce papers I would make myself disappear. I’m a full-time author. It was easy to create my identity as Elodie McCann because I’ve been writing novels under that name for years. People already believed it was my real one because I couldn’t let my readers discover I was a Mafia wife, daughter, and mother. When I go in public with Enrique, I lose that anonymity immediately. Between my past and Enrique’s life, I’m in more danger than I’ve ever been. But your brother is worth that risk. I didn’t think I could care about someone like this again. There’s nothing I won’t do to protect him and protect what we have.”

I draw a breath. I revealed far more than I probably should have, but I want them to know I get it. I get the life. I get the danger I bring Enrique. I get the danger he brings me. I get I’m not giving this up now that I’ve accepted it.

“You’re telling us more than our brothers, sons, or nephews would.” Luciana assesses me, and I think the ice is chipping.

“It’s nothing you wouldn’t overhear in bits and pieces or figure out on your own. I’d rather just tell you.”

“What happens the next time Tommaso wants something from you?”

I lock gazes with Margherita. “He knows I’ll put a bullet through his skull before I do another job for him.”

My gaze shifts to Luciana, then Catalina. It wouldn’t shock me if these women have killed before. You wouldn’t know it from how they were around the men. Not even when Catalina stepped in front of her son. But it’s there in their eyes now.

“I’m not part of your family, and I don’t know if I ever will be. But you’re important to me because you’re important to Enrique. My loyalty is to my sons before everything else. After that, it’s to Enrique. If it’s between a Vizzini and a Diaz who’s in this house right now, I pray you’ll give me shelter when the Vizzinis come looking for me.”

The women look amongst themselves before Margherita speaks on their behalf. “Your sons are under our protection, too.”

“Thank you.”

They’ll kill for my children, and they’ll make sure the men in this house know the price they’ll pay if they won’t kill for my sons too.

As I push back my chair, Luciana fires the parting shot.

“Fool us, and you’ll wish it’s our men who find you.”

They won’t kill me, but I’m not one of them.