Page 42 of Forbidden Pregnancy (The Buffalo Italian Mob Family #2)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Renzo

One week after Michael’s wedding…

D ad isn’t pleased with me for how everything went down.

I thought I was doing the right thing, but the situation with Myra got completely out of control.

Now, I have the privilege of a one-on-one meeting with my pissed-off father.

He invites me to dinner at his favorite steakhouse –Il Macellaio – the best steakhouse in his neighborhood with discreet booths that keep private conversations just that.

I choose a light blue linen suit for dinner with dad so he doesn’t interpret a sloppy appearance as disrespect.

I finally allowed my natural hair color to grow out.

We used false names during our college years in Italy, and I kept my copper hair dyed jet black to maintain the distance from my true identity as Leandro Taviani’s son.

Beneath the linen jacket, I wear a white linen shirt to keep cool and my lucky golden cross, a gift from my grandmother after my First Holy Communion.

Uncle Pino gave me my watch – a solid gold vintage Prada men’s watch from the early 00’s.

He told me that he chopped it off a Greek man’s wrist, but I don’t know if he was fucking around about that.

I walk into the restaurant and recognize the hostess as a guy I went to high school with. Ian Pirrone grins when he sees me.

“Renzo! I heard you were back. What’s good, man?”

It feels good to be well-known around this city. I don’t miss the anonymity we had in Italy. My twin brother and I disguised our identities, but even if we hadn’t, we were strangers in a strange land with ‘different’ accents.

“Not much. Dinner with the old man,” I answer Ian with a smile. He’s a good guy, but not a part of our family business.

“He’s at his usual table. Yo, this job is great man, but rent has gone up in this city.”

It’s a common complaint these days. I’ve always had enough money to support myself since I was quite young, but dad always taught us to listen to the problems of our community and to use our power to help make all Italian’s stronger.

Sure, we demand loyalty and kickbacks for protecting our own, but we provide the protection and support that we all need to survive any new frontier.

“I’ve heard how hard it gets.”

“If you’re hiring for anything, or your pops, reach out to me bro.”

Ian knows what type of work would come from an affiliation with my family, but he’s not a wise guy, so I can’t confirm or deny my connection to my father’s business.

“I’ll let you know if dad has any positions at the car wash.”

“Sure thing, man,” Ian says, his gaze flickering to me desperately. “Any work you got, I’ll do.”

Ian surely heard rumors about his uncle’s role in the mob and the type of work that happens under the cover of darkness.

But I’m not likely to take someone untested out on a serious job.

It’s not just about the financial potential.

You have to really trust somebody for them to join you on a job like that.

Dad is already halfway through a bottle of wine when I seat myself at his table. Ian pours my glass all the way to the top as I sit down and I start drinking immediately before dad can even start talking.

“I heard you had a productive meeting with your Uncle Pino half a year ago.”

“He hired me for a private job.”

“Pissed off Luigi really bad,” dad says, taking another sip of wine and staring at me to gauge my reactions.

Why should I let my brother’s moods bother me? I understand his “circumstances” with Delphine were forced upon him, but Michael chose to lay with Myra and get her pregnant. His father made himself quite clear about where he stood in the long run.

“It all worked out in the end, no?”

“Sure it did,” dad says. “Sure. But the entire situation got me thinking about you and your brother.”

“I think we’re both adjusting to life on this side of the Atlantic.”

“Clearly,” dad says.

He’s done with his wine. Ian hasn’t returned to take the order, leaving me vulnerable to my father’s next attack. I’m careful not to look too suspiciously concerned, but I have noticed that my twin brother Gino didn’t receive an invitation to dinner.

My father and I remain in a silent stand-off with each other for almost a minute before he breaks the silence first.

“I don’t like Pino using my sons for his personal matters. If you need money, you should come to me, not your uncle.”

“It’s not that I need it, dad. I want it. It costs money, especially now that I’m dating.”

“Who are you dating?” Dad responds with unfair skepticism.

“A few girls. Nobody special.”

“If you had somebody special, you wouldn’t have time on your hands to piss off Michael Corsini. I understand your loyalty, Renzo but when I’m gone and Pino’s gone, you boys will only have each other and your memories of way back when.”

“I don’t have any responsibility towards Mikey.”

He’s not the boss or the underboss and if he ever sits at my brother Luigi’s right hand, I’ll consider it a personal failure on my part. Just because he’s older than I am doesn’t make him more deserving of a position which would be better off held within my family.

“You don’t,” my father replies calmly. “That’s correct. But when I’m not here to protect you or guide you, all he’ll have is this memory of how you hurt the woman he loved. You don’t touch another man’s woman.”

I’m not stupid enough to bring up Mikey’s transgressions here.

My father knows and doesn’t care. It’s my behavior he has a problem with.

Ian chooses this moment to take our orders.

Dad orders the chef’s special – a lemon-roasted salmon dish with risotto – for both of us.

Ian leaves, and dad watches me to observe how I’m absorbing his message.

“I’ll keep out of Mikey’s way. I’ll even do him a favor if that helps.”

“Very good,” Dad says. “But it’s not enough. You’re expressing a need for more responsibility.”

Is that really what he thinks, or is this a mental game on my father’s part. My biggest responsibility right now is making this man happy.

“Anything you need,” I answer him, finishing off the bottle of wine and silently praying to myself that my father orders another one. This is definitely a set up and I worry that this might be worse than I thought considering the price point of this restaurant.

“I need you to take custody of your sister.”

“Angela?”

I thought Angela ran away with that dancer named Devin. She incinerated her value with that divorce.

“My precious Nicoletta.”

My body stiffens nervously. Nicoletta? My father must be joking.

I don’t get along with Nicoletta. We’ve never gotten along.

She’s closer to Gino than she is to me. It’s always been this way.

Nicoletta is the furthest thing from “precious”, despite my father’s fondness for her.

She’s a demon disguised as a 110lb Italian woman.

“She gets along much better with Gino. It’s hard to keep our relationships and preferences apart.”

“I didn’t ask Gino out to dinner. I asked you.”

Ian returns with the salmon before I can answer. But what “answer” could I possibly give my father? This isn’t a request, regardless of how tame the situation might seem. My father doesn’t make requests. He issues demands.

“Nicoletta will kill me in my sleep.”

“She already agreed to the arrangement,” dad says calmly, cutting into his steak and nodding with approval as the medium rare appearance meets his expectations perfectly.

He continues, “You’re taking her out to the lake house after dinner tonight. I’m giving her one last night at The Richardson to ensure her compliance and then she’s your responsibility.”

My responsibility.

“Is there a way out of this?”

“No.”

“Fuck.”

“The two of you are blood. Since you’re so interested in our bloodline, work on your relationship with your youngest sister.”

“This is a punishment.”

“It’s not a punishment. It’s a necessity. If you’re going to preach about Italian blood purity and responsibility to our heritage, I want to see you demonstrate more of it. There’s no point in having a principle if you don’t live by it.”

He won’t change his mind.

“How long?” I ask desperately. He can’t expect me to live with Nicoletta for longer than a month.

After two weeks, I’ll go crazy. But I can survive as a crazy person for two additional weeks.

Anything past that and I’ll need to spend a couple hours a day at the gun range to keep my emotions in check.

Or some other high intensity emotional outlet.

“A year.”

“A year? ”

It takes all my strength to steady my voice and tighten up my tone around my emotions.

I clearly pissed him off, because this is almost as bad as a death sentence.

At least when you’re getting shot in the head, it’s over quickly.

Spending an entire year caring for Nicoletta will slowly drive me insane.

“Yes. She’s your family, Renzo. When I’m gone, she’ll be your responsibility.”

Despite my best efforts to keep my emotions away from dad, he must be able to sense my disappointment that I’ll be hostage to caring for my sister for an entire year.

He can’t seriously expect me to spend a full year of my life responsible for Nicki.

Out of desperation, I make an effort to appeal to dad’s logical side rather than his emotional side.

“Even if I agree to this and act perfectly, Nicki will be the problem. She’ll be worse than Angela.”

She’s still a sore subject for dad. He hasn’t exactly “accepted” her relationship with Devin, but he has surrendered to it, which seems to be all that dad expects from her now.

It must be nice for my sister to so easily shrug off her expectations and responsibilities while I sit here and find out I’m facing a fate worse than death.

My younger sister.

“I’m allowing Nicki enough privileges that she will obediently remain in your custody. Trust me.”

“Nicki has never been obedient a day in her life,” I remind my father.

He returns my complaint with a stony, disinterested stare.

“You are going to learn how to take care of your family. If you want power in this organization, you will find a way to make it work.”

I fight back my initial anger. “Understood.”

“Nicki will test your weaknesses,” my father says. “Most of the women in our family test our weaknesses, but I want you to become a better man from this assignment.”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be letting Gino off the hook.”

I wasn’t worried about Gino. My twin brother has absolutely no ambition and there’s nothing I can do to change that about him. I don’t mind. I have plenty of ambition for both of us and Gino could be potentially useful if I ever get close to the power I truly want.

“I wasn’t worried about Gino.”

My father raises his eyebrows in disapproval.

It would bother me more if he ever made his approval easy to come by.

He has a strong preference for his eldest son, the only heir he needed.

He considers the rest of us extras and only gives a shit if we’re useful.

Luigi manages to see himself as the ultimate victim despite being my fathers favorite.

“You should worry about every member of your flock if you want to become a shepherd.”

Whatever the fuck that means.

“Understood.”

Dad smirks. “He doesn’t have your ambition. But be careful, Renzo. And start going to church. Because it says right there in the Bible – Pride goes before the fall. ”

“I’ll look after my sister.”

“Excellent,” dad says. “I understand your ambitions. It’s not easy to be right smack in the middle. But these struggles will make you stronger.”

“Thanks for dinner, dad.”

“You’re welcome, Renzo. And I know how you think. Just because I go easier on some of my children doesn’t mean I love them more. I only test you as much as you can take.”