Page 139 of Mine

When we had finished, Cal turned to me. “I think we should spend your birthday in Winterburg. Shall we move out next week? I can have things shipped over to us, so I’m not concerned about that. Then we can get looking for our forever home.”

I nodded enthusiastically, dragging my hair into a loose bun on my head as I yawned.

“You still take my breath away, Gretchen. The most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on. Shall we get you home?” he signalled for the bill and I sank back happily into my chair.

“Cal, are we sticking with Cal or Leo? You said you wanted me to call you Leo but you’re always gonna be Cal to me,” I shrugged, and he smiled.

“Cal Fallon or Leo Cape. It’s still me, whichever way you look at it. But I think I’m going to stick with Cal. My old name has too much trauma attached to it,” his eyes turned dark as he gazed behind me, as though peering into a memory. He paid the bill and we left, walking to his car. The tiredness was overtaking me now, my shoulders slumped as I tried to keep my eyes open. I slid into the seat and watched as a huge truck drove by with a holiday promoted on the side.

“Summer,” I mused aloud as Cal studied me.

“What?”

“Summer. It’s a nice name.”

He nodded as he smiled.

“Whatever you say darling. Your choice. Always.”

Part Two: Chapter Thirty

CAL

“So, you’re leaving us, boss?”

Eugene studied me, his black eyes darting around as he shifted uneasily. I sighed as I slid the whiskey glass towards him, watching as he threw it down his throat with incredible speed. Sometimes I wondered how this man was still alive; if he wasn’t drinking, he was smoking. He was always angry, which is what made him a brilliant executioner, I guess.

“You’ve got Carl. He will take over from me. You’ll be fine,” I tried to reassure him, and he nodded thoughtfully.

“So, you’re gonna leave, just like that? What’s the Don say?”

I lifted my eyes to his then as Mark and Teddy glanced at each other nervously. I knew that Eugene would be the nosey bastard he always had been, but he was right to ask.

Just not respectful.

I decided not to dignify it with an answer, my glare telling him to shut the fuck up. I rubbed my chin as I stood up, nodding at Carl who sat on the chair in the corner of the room smoking, watching me intently. He had wanted my job for as long as I could remember, so I knew he was more than happy with the cards he was being dealt. Unfortunately for the others, he had even less tolerance than me. He nodded back at me as I left the room, knowing my next conversation wouldn’t be a pleasant one.

The Don was informally known as Paul Gasio, a man with such charm that he could smooth-talk a man into swallowing his own tongue.

I’m not kidding, he fucking had once.

I guess the alternative was too much.

I waited outside his room for about twenty minutes, until a man walked out with soulless eyes. People came to ask the Don for favors of all kinds, and many were in debt to him. He called me in with a deep Italian accent which had thickened from a recent visit to Sicily.

“Leonardo. Sit down.”

I sat on the hard leather chair, my eyes meeting his as he studied me carefully. He looked like you would expect him to—slicked black hair, a thin moustache on his tanned face. His eyes were dark, and his tone intrigued.

“I hear you are going to be a father soon. There is no greater gift than children, Leonardo. I have four boys. They keep me young.”

He smiled as he lit a cigar, leaning back on his chair as he waited.

“Indeed, I will be. That’s why I am here.”

I cleared my throat as I braced myself for the questions, but he waved his hand dismissively.

“You came to me in a strange way. You had avenged a family member, and I respected that. You work hard, follow commands, and execute them seamlessly. Yet you want to be a picket fence guy, no? You want to be at the football games, the charity cookie sales,” he raised his eyebrow at me, and I remained very still.