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Chapter Forty-Three

Rafael

I hate the look on her face when she asks the question. Her eyes shine with hope, her lip quivers, like she could cry at any moment.

She hates what I do, more than she’s probably ever hated anything. But what can I say? You don’t just quit the mafia. You can’t just walk away from the family. It’s in my blood, in my DNA. I was programmed for this life.

I wince as she sighs with disappointment, pulling away to pick up her sandwich. As much as I hate disappointing her, I also know that I can’t just step back.

That leaves the door open for more Vince copycats to try and dismantle the reign my family has over the city.

If that happens, I won’t just leave myself vulnerable, I’ll be putting my family in danger.

We finish our lunch in silence, both of us lost in thoughts of the future. The look on her face when she saw the pink farmhouse haunts me, calling me a failure.

Why can’t I give her the life she deserves? One where she doesn’t have to fear that her husband will die on the job? That he’ll come home soaked in blood and scare the crap out of her kids?

I was exposed to that life fairly young. My mother tried to protect me from it as much as possible.

But nothing can prepare you for your father striding into your room at midnight, another man’s blood on his hands. He did it to show me what success looks like—what to expect from the future. I know his heart was in the right place.

He wanted to harden me because softies die fast in this business. He wanted me to be aware of the consequences of having empathy for others because it’ll get you killed in seconds. He trained me well, but is that what I want for my own child?

These questions plague me as we drive around Willowdale, checking out the layout of the town. It conjures up Grant Woodesque images of small-town Americana—white-steepled churches, kids playing in the road, soda shops, and old-fashioned wooden signs.

My uncles would have a field day if I moved out here. They’d never let me live it down.

One look at Lux’s face as she spots a public fairy garden down the road and I know I’m done for.

I’ll endure my entire family’s bullying and snide whispers of “going soft” if I get to see her face light up every day. She points out the fairy garden, smiling like a fairy herself, and I can just imagine her taking our Bean out to play in there.

Maybe I can’t quit the mafia life, but I can give her everything else she desires in this world.

As we head back to the city, we pull in at a rest stop for Lux to use the bathroom. Ever since she entered her second trimester, she’s had to pee non-stop. I take the opportunity to call Enzo.

“I’m moving into a Norman Rockwell painting,” I say before he can even greet me. “Tell me I’m insane?”

He laughs entirely too long and I almost hang up on him.

“Aww, boss,” he drawls, taunting me. “It’s finally the day for friendship?”

“Shut up, Enzo,” I warn, but there’s no malice behind it. I’m starting to really like the little shit. Plus, his wholesome friendship with Lux is adorable. It’s like watching two golden retrievers play.

“Damn,” he sighs, sounding put out. “You do want something from me, don’t you?”

“While you’re enjoying the multi-million-dollar penthouse I gifted you,” I warn him. “Do me a favor and buy me an 1800s bubble gum pink Victorian farmhouse?”

He starts laughing again as Lux slips out of the bathroom. “I’m sending you the link right now. Get that house, no matter how much she tries to gouge us on the price, got it?”

I hang up, pretending to feel irritated when I actually feel lighter than I have in weeks. Lux sidles up beside me, snuggling into my side against the car hood.

“Who was that?”

“Just Enzo,” I sigh, guiding her to the door. She claps her hands happily, grinning up at me.

“Is he coming for dinner again?” she asks, already excited to see her human golden retriever.

“God, I hope not.”

Back at the townhouse, I force Lux to put her feet up and rest while I make dinner. I mull her question over again as I toss the chicken into the oil.

“Make some extra for Enzo!” she calls from the living room and I shake my head.

Say I did retire, how would that work?

I’d have to find a replacement, although my uncles could share the duty in the interim. Uncle Joe has told me multiple times that he’s too old and doesn’t want the responsibility, but Rocco? Rocco would lead the Romano family.

I start chopping vegetables for the salad, barely focusing on my hands as ideas spin around in my mind. Would Rocco be the best choice? Probably not. He’s too careful, too stodgy and set in his ways.

This family needs someone younger, someone who can lead with an iron fist but also understand the evolving dynamics of families spearheaded by a new generation.

“Honey, I’m home!” Enzo sings, bursting in through the back door. I almost leap out of my skin, bringing the knife down too early and nicking my finger.

“Screw you,” I mutter, wrapping a dish towel around it to staunch the bleeding. Enzo wanders over, peering at my hand and gasps in mock horror.

“Oh no,” he laughs. “Big bad mafia boy went to see a pink farmhouse and now he’s scared of a papercut? Whatever shall we do?”

“Enzo, stop teasing him,” Lux chides, walking into the kitchen. “I have to stop him from killing you on a daily basis.”

I watch my two favorite oddballs interact as Lux chatters about our house shopping trip this afternoon. Enzo teases her about being a country mouse and I tune them out, smiling as I finish up dinner. We sit down at the informal kitchen table, skipping the opulent dining room as usual.

“Oh, did you get me that…thing I mentioned this afternoon?” I ask casually, spearing a tomato onto my fork. Lux’s ears perk up, sensing a surprise is in the works. That girl loves surprises more than anything in the world.

“Sure did,” Enzo says, and we go back to quietly eating our meal. Lux’s eyes dart wildly between us as we sit in silence, refusing to look at her.

Enzo kicks me under the table. I glance at him and immediately regret it. He’s turning pink trying to hold in his laughter—almost the same shade of pink as the farmhouse.

“Sure gonna be a nice surprise for someone’s little old lady,” he drawls with a country accent and I choke back a laugh.

“Stop it, it’s not fair,” Lux finally announces. “No secrets in this tripod. Tell me!”

“Mafia stuff,” I mutter.

“It’s nothing,” he grumbles.

We both speak at the same time and burst out laughing again. Lux is vibrating with curiosity now, glaring at us for keeping secrets from her. Her eyebrows are pulled down to give her an angry look and her arms are folded across her chest.

“You’re cute when you’re angry, you know that?” I smile, winking at her.

“Can we please put her out of her misery?” Enzo pleads. “She’s my best friend.”

“I thought I was your best friend?” I act shocked by the announcement.

“You wouldn’t even let me call you on your personal phone until two weeks ago,” he scoffs. “I’m telling her.”

“Fine,” I wave my arm gallantly. “Show her what you managed to get.”

Enzo pulls up the listing for the farmhouse on his phone and slides it to her. She stares down at it, confused.

When the realization hits her, an ear-piercing shriek flies out of her mouth and she shoots onto my lap. I laugh as she straddles me, placing tiny kisses across my face.

“Ew, no one needs to see mom and dad make out,” Enzo announces, picking up his plate and walking into the living room.

“It’s really ours?” she whispers, leaning her forehead on mine.

“It really is,” I smile.

Lux is radiant all night, the good news having transformed her into something brighter than the sun.

I’ve never felt this happy in my life. Sometimes being with her feels like I’m inside a fireworks display, every burst of color and light igniting something electric in my soul.

Later that night, as we’re drifting off to sleep, she places her cheek on my chest and peeks over at me.

“I’ve been thinking about our discussion this afternoon,” she starts shyly. “About your career choices.”

“This feels like a lecture a parent gives when their kid chooses to go to art school,” I joke, not wanting to get into the topic now.

“Hey! I want to go to art school!”

I laugh at her false indignation, kissing her sweetly on the forehead.

“Anyway,” she continues, clearing her throat. “What about a semi-retirement?”

“Interesting, how would that work?”

“Well, I was thinking you might handle the business side of it, working from home when you can, going into the city for meetings,” she pauses, glancing at me to gauge my reaction. “But when it comes to the dirty work, you choose someone else. It’s like you’ll be the face of the family, but you won’t get your hands bloody anymore.”

“You know what?” I tease, pulling her closer. “That might be crazy enough to work.”