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16

ADRIANO

T he door slams. Gloria’s gone before I even get up.

Again.

I hate this.

I hate the way things have gotten between us.

We’re sleeping in the same room, living in the same house, sleeping in the same bed.

And it’s like we’re complete fucking strangers all over again.

I should just get over myself and talk to her, but I feel like she’s holding back, like she’s upset with herself more than she’s upset with me. I think she is, frankly, after the way she has been behaving the last few days.

Dom Junior, over here.

I shouldn’t be so mean, but…

She’s doubled down on being the bitch offspring of Domenico instead of being herself.

It did give me an idea, however.

The encounter with Weller, Gloria’s behavior. It all sparked the need for a break . And a chance to connect with my roots. The week leading up to my wedding gives me a sort of leverage unique to the groom to skip town for a minute.

A chance to take a trip.

Get away.

It’ll give me time to regroup. Plan. Try and figure out what the hell Weller was talking about with Dom and my family. Maybe I can figure out what he meant about Dom’s past with the FBI.

But of course, there’s the matter of asking Dom whether I can go. He’s the end-all of everything I can and cannot do.

Tracking him down on a Friday around noon leads me to Dyker Beach, the nearest course to our offices. He’s gotten in the habit of starting his weekends early.

“Hey, Dom, you busy?” I catch him as he’s pulling into the clubhouse. Early bird. Dom tips his hat as he steps off his cart.

Good sign.

First round must have been good.

“Just taking a break, Adriano. Like to warm up solo. The boys should be here soon. You wanna join us?”

“If you want me to embarrass you in front of everyone, sure.”

“Oh! A challenge?”

“No, I mean I’m more likely to kill someone with a ball than make it down the fairway.”

“Ha! Fair enough.” He’s calm. Relaxed.

Rare these days.

Tagging along into the cool confines of the clubhouse, I steer him toward the bar.

“Beer?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

A few sips in gives me a better sense of his state.

“Ah,” he sighs, “so, are you just playing hooky like me, or was there something you wanted to ask me?”

“Nothing gets past you.”

“Yeah, shut up, smart-ass. Everybody’s always begging for scraps.”

“No scraps. I wanted to ask you a favor, something I’d like permission to do.”

“Shoot!” Dom nods, looking far more pleased that I’m not trying to play him.

This is the version of him that I remember from when we were kids. Sharp. Chipper. Dom was the eldest of the cluster of kids around us, a couple of years older than Alessandro. Meaning I always thought of him as an adult growing up, being almost ten years my senior.

Even in my teens, twenties, he was…higher up.

But he always played around, joked with me and the twins. More like a dismissive uncle. Fun. Removed.

He was fair. Most of the time.

The hyper-violence started back then, flashes of his rage.

In retrospect, I think something happened, something made him snap years before losing the bid for don to Aless. But what did I know?

What do I know?

“Well?” he prods, taking a bite of fries as soon as his burger arrives.

Another good sign.

Most days he barely eats. Started to wonder if he was snorting his lunches again.

“Well, so here’s the thing. The wedding is…soon.”

“The wedding is in nine days! Countdown has begun.”

“Right. And I’m excited.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“I really am. Just…nervous. Feel like there’s loose ends.”

“Like what?”

“Like on my side of the family.”

“Hey, don’t worry, I promised you I’d have the twins back for the ceremony, didn’t I?”

“You did. I appreciate that.” Even if he refused to bring them home for the bachelor party.

“So what’s the problem?” I can see the thought forming, the suspicion. He thinks this has to do with Alessandro.

“With my parents…gone, I don’t have anyone to bless my union.”

“Hm. You always were a stickler for dotting your I’s and following protocol, huh? What’s the ask?”

“To go to Italy. Nonna Natalia, my grandmother on my mom’s side.”

“She’s still kicking? Shit. Must be the only relative you boys have left,” he muses, actually looking thoughtful. “Why don’t we fly her out?”

“Because she won’t. And she can’t. She’s at a home near Verona.”

“That’s too bad. Wonderful lady. I went to visit her with your brother a couple of times. Made amazing arancini .”

“That’s exactly why I wanted to go, to get the recipe,” I quip.

Dom throws his head back, cackling. “There he is. You always were so damn sour, boy. But every once in a while, you’d throw out these gems, take us all off guard.”

“It’s all about timing.”

“Tell that to Ciro. He still emails me jokes almost daily.” Dom grins, genuine. Also good to know my brother behaves as expected with Dom. Kid’s smarter than I give him credit for.

“Better than the trash he sends me. Had to install a firewall.”

“Does Gloria know you’re going?” Dom shifts back to the topic at hand. He can’t deviate from business for long.

“I didn’t want to bring it up until I asked you.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Go. Get your grandmother’s blessing. Tell her about your life. Your wedding.”

“Thank you, Don.” I bow my head, raising my hand for him to give me his, to kiss his ring.

“Nah. None of that, not for something like this. Consider it a wedding gift. I’ll even let you use my miles if you want!”

“I appreciate that.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it. And I mean that. Don’t mention it to Gloria. I want you on the plane today.”

“Oh. Alright.”

“She’s been antsy lately. I don’t want her trying to tag along.”

Neither do I, for my true purposes of going to Italy.

I need to meet with my brothers. I need to go see Alessandro and Isabella.

Just one last time.

On the other hand, it rankles me, not telling Gloria. Letting Dom manipulate her.

I’ve been a fool for holding back from her lately.

Oh well.

Dom holds up a finger for me to wait, makes a call, standing and taking a lap. He’s gone a few minutes, rambling on to someone for a while before hanging up and plopping back down, a grin on his face.

“Flight’s being booked as we speak. Go home, get your shit, and be at the airport in an hour.”

“Really? Uh, okay.” Suddenly I don’t feel so good about his good mood. My mind races through the tight time frame I’m left with. What I’ll need, who I need to talk to before I go.

Leave it to Dom to throw me a curveball.

And then another.

“So. When you fly into Rome…”

There it is.

The real reason he’s allowing me to go.

“There’ll be a bag waiting for you, a car too. Usual protocol for spotting the drop. Head to Terni. A friend of mine will send instructions on where to go. Then you can go see your nonna .”

“Will do. Any hints on what I’ll be doing near Terni?” I ask, trying to hide the snide tone in my voice.

“Call it loose ends, like you said. Get it all out of your system.”

Dom’s mood shifts, subtly.

With a sharp wave, he dismisses me.

“Oh, and Adriano? Have fun .”