Page 3 of My Solemn Vow (The Mafia Arrangement #1)

ANTONELLA

HOMECOMING

It’s the funniest thing to experience homesickness when you’ve spent so long running from your family. But one little thing is all it takes to have you considering going back home. Then it snowballs.

“Toni. You must take this job. Please. Please. Please. Please. At least apply?” Leticia, my younger cousin, is begging me over the phone like she’s dying, and I’m loving every minute of it.

“I don’t know.” I sigh, playing into the uncertainty of the prospect. “You know if I move home, I’ll be forced back into the life. Berto and your dad will be terrible about it. Plus, I just started feeling like I can breathe without worrying about every person as a threat.”

That last part is true, but my resistance is fake. After seven years, homesickness has won and I’m headed back to Chicago, at least for one school year.

The job Leticia is begging me to take, a full-time teaching position at one of the most elite elementary schools in the country, is already mine. I applied, interviewed, and accepted the teaching job at Rothschild-McClintock Magnet School, starting for the new school year .

“But, Toni,” Leticia whines, “you don’t have to be back into the lifestyle. I know my dad would much rather keep paying you to stay as a silent heir.”

“And I’ll resent him for it. It was my dad’s wish that I take over his responsibilities.” I groan as I think about living in Chicago again. The conflict between me and my uncle Gregorio, Leticia’s father and head of the infamous Italian Mob, is bound to only get worse.

It’s easier to accept that I’m not who my father wanted me to be when I’m not seeing the turnoff every week to the cemetery where my parents are buried. The Catholic guilt can’t burrow in too deep if I’m not face-to-face with it every day.

The guilt and conflict don’t stop me from packing. I put the sweater I folded into the suitcase.

“At least think about it? I’m graduating this year, and you know Dad won’t waste any time trying to marry me off to some pompous douche canoe who thinks he’s hot shit and gives me an allowance.” Leticia gives a wistful sigh, a stark contradiction to the insults she spewed.

She would never say such things if she weren’t in her room, tucked away from the rest of the family. Leticia is almost perfect for becoming a Mafia wife. Meek, docile, easy to control... everything I’m not.

“I don’t know, Leticia.” I hold out telling her a little bit longer.

It’s nice to have someone on this planet who wants me in their life. She’ll be excited when I tell her the news, but hearing her say how much she wants me back home is nice.

“Well, if you’re not coming home, then maybe I should do what you did? Apply to grad school in some faraway land. Get a master’s and then, one step further, a PhD to avoid everyone.” Leticia tries to sound strong in that decision.

“I’d help you pack.” I encourage her while knowing full well that she got homesick during the one spring break she spent with me out here in New York.

With one more look at my bedroom, I breathe a relaxing sigh of relief. I’m grateful I don’t need to sell the big pieces of furniture since I rented this apartment fully furnished. It’ll be a relatively easy move back to my uncle’s penthouse in the Gold Coast of Chicago.

“You’d need to be here first.” Leticia pauses. “Wait. Does that mean you’re coming home?”

“Yes, I already got the job you’re telling me about. Well, no, not that exact job. I’m teaching second grade, accelerated learners, not kindergarten.” I quickly remove the phone from where I had it pressed it to my ear with my shoulder.

Leticia’s scream is so loud I’m sure everyone in the massive seven-thousand-square-foot Casa D’Medici heard.

“Shhhh.” I bring the phone back to my ear when her excited squeals subside. “I’m not sure where I’m living yet.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Leticia scoffs. “Where else would you live if not at home?”

“I don’t know, get an apartment in River North?

Any place not in Gold Coast? It would be a closer commute to school,” I answer, pulling out the next drawer to put more clothes into the suitcase.

“The only issue is the bodyguard.” I giggle, thinking about the conversation I already had in my head about this, and then choose to relay it to her.

“‘Oh, yes, hello, Mrs. Neighbor. Oh, for work? I’m a second-grade teacher, and this is my bodyguard Enzo’ or maybe something like, ‘Oh, yeah, my uncle, Gregorio D’Medici, crime boss, wants me to keep him as a pet.

Feel free to give Enzo coffee or pastries when you see him in the hallway.

’ Those aren’t normal things you say to people. ”

“Oh my God, could you even imagine if that was?” Leticia giggles before musing, “Poor Enzo. Not that he would be assigned back to you, it’d probably be one of the newer men.

Enzo is getting close with Berto. I heard them talking about a supplier and Russians.

Of course, when I asked, all I got was ‘It’s men’s work.

You need to go back to the kitchen with Mom. ’”

“Ugh,” I huff and try closing the lid on my suitcase. Even thinking about what kind of business they could be getting into has me on edge. “Gregorio is going with the Russians?”

“Hell if I know,” Leticia murmurs. “It’s not like they tell me anything. I’m a woman. Did I tell you I cut my hair?”

“You did it?” I gasp, letting go of the suitcase lid since it’s not zipping easily.

Leticia was blessed with beautiful golden hair, an oddball among the family of various shades of brown.

She’s been through countless battles with her mother, Francesca, about how she’s not allowed to cut it beyond a trim and light layering.

Despite being twenty-three, Leticia has never gone against her mother’s wishes.

I sit on the bed next to my suitcase to focus.

“I didn’t do all of it.” Leticia huffs in stiff disappointment with herself. “I was too afraid to do the splash of color we talked about, but I went from waist length to chest length.”

“Okay. Wow.” I’ve never had a problem telling Francesca and Gregorio that they don’t run my life. But for their daughter? This is a huge step in breaking the cycle away from the overbearing parents. “How did that go over?”

“There was some crying,” Leticia admits, and I can practically hear her wincing.

“You or Francesca?” I clarify.

The sweat from packing is making my skin sticky, so I shake my T-shirt to try and cool myself down.

“Both,” Leticia mumbles. “I held strong until she started crying. I told her I’m an adult and she had to accept that I needed some change.

” She sighs, and I think I hear her flop down on the bed.

“But then she said she didn’t want me to turn out like you.

That God wouldn’t forgive her if she had a disobedient daughter, and how could I do this to her?

She literally left to go to church and pray for me.

And that’s when I went to my room and cried. ”

“It’s a haircut. You didn’t deserve for her to treat you like that.” My heart hurts for Leticia.

I’m the rebel of the family, but I come by it honestly.

My father, the second-born son, was raised to be my uncle Gregorio’s consigliere when Gregorio took over as head of the family.

Dad tried to bring the ‘family’ business into a more modern era and away from the classic men’s club sexist shit.

As a result, unlike Leticia, I was always encouraged to be unique and do all the things my cousin, Berto, Leticia’s brother, did.

“It’s not like I took you to get a tattoo or another piercing.”

“I know.” Leticia’s voice is small, and it pisses me off.

I stand up off the bed and then start pacing, angry on her behalf.

I pull my other suitcase out of the closet and put her on speaker, setting the phone on the overfull suitcase I’m done with.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll come home, show them my newest tattoo, and they’ll be so focused on me that they’ll forget all about your haircut. ”

“When are you coming home?” Leticia whispers like she’s hiding some big secret.

“I’m finishing packing as we speak. My lease is up at the end of the month. And I figured I’d talk to Berto about where to live.” I groan thinking about how that conversation will go. Berto and I don’t see eye to eye.

He’s a traditionalist and would gladly cut me out in a heartbeat if it weren’t for my father’s wishes. But once upon a time, when we were children in the same classes, we used to be friends. Sometimes, I catch glimpses of that boy, but they’re getting fewer and further between.

“I would recommend telling him sooner rather than later and letting him book the flight,” Leticia suggests.

“He’s been obnoxious about making decisions lately.

Dad’s been trying to give him more responsibility so ‘every decision matters.’” Leticia uses a fake deep voice, imitating her older brother.

“Will do,” I say while standing by my dresser and tossing my socks across the room into the suitcase.

“So, you’ll be home when?” Leticia sounds all too pleased with the feeling that she ‘won’ my return home.

I finish tossing that drawer and move on to my underwear and bras. “Well, the school year starts in a little over two weeks. I need to pick up my class list and a ton of stuff, so the sooner, the better. I was looking at a flight out tomorrow afternoon. But if Berto is?—”

“Berto!” Leticia yells, and I’m so glad my phone isn’t up to my ear.

Her footfalls sound much quieter for a few seconds.

“What?” Berto sounds grated by his sister’s presence.

I think back to all the times when he told his father how he asked for a younger brother.

“Toni wants to come home. She got a job here. Can you get her a plane ticket?” Leticia uses her sweetest voice.

“She’s coming home?” Berto sounds just as surprised as I assumed they would all be.

“That’s mine!” Leticia objects. “Call her on your own phone. Later?—”

“You’re coming home?” Berto’s deeper voice is closer now.

I stare down at the phone, and the dread I had for this conversation smacks me in the face.

I was enjoying being excited with Leticia, but now this.

Begrudgingly, when I can’t not answer any longer, I explain.

“I accepted a position at Rothschild-McClintock Magnet School. I’ll get an apartment in the city, maybe River North, so I’ll be closer to work. ”

“No.” Berto is firm. “You’ll stay here at the house.

It’s too dangerous for you to live and work in neutral territory.

You should have spoken to me before accepting a job.

The Cavanaghs are up to their bullshit again.

It’s not safe to talk on open lines like this.

I’ll send you details for your flight secured. ”

Interesting. I don’t bother arguing with him, but I do catalog what he is saying. “Thank you, cousin.”

Berto says nothing more, and Leticia is back on the line. “Ugh, I have to go too, or I’ll be late for dinner.”

“Go. Go.” I encourage her while I finish packing the necessities and can manage without needing her to body double.

“I’ll see you so soon!” Leticia smacks her lips in a kiss. “Love you! Bye!”

“Love you too,” I call out, but she’s gone, and I’m left back alone with the silence of my apartment.

Am I really moving back into La Casa D’Medici with all of them?

But the longer the silence drags on, the longer I ache to be with people. The ties of community found in a large family aren’t easily replaced.