“How about we have coffee first and afterward you two discuss whatever it is you need to iron out?” Val suggested.

“Very well,” Giovanni said.

The atmosphere at the table was frosty. It reminded me of dinner at my own home in the past. Luckily Val made sure that our family dinners were a pleasant, warm gathering. Anna and Leonas would never know any different, except for the few times they had to have dinner at my parents’ house.

Afterward, I led Orazio and Giovanni into my office for a drink and a conversation. I didn’t want Anna to see her uncle and grandfather fighting with each other, and judging from the angry look the two had exchanged I had no doubt there would be loud arguments.

I closed the door. “Keep your voices down. I don’t want the rest of the house to listen in.”

“I can control my impulses,” Giovanni said pointedly.

“Is that so? Did you control your impulses when you called Lucy a slit-eyed whore?”

“That was one time—”

“Twice.”

“And that’s been years ago. Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that goddamn girl. For god’s sake, there are million fish in the ocean. What’s wrong with our girls? There are so many beautiful Italian girls who’re eager to marry you and you refuse them all.”

“Because I don’t want them. Stop pestering me with possible brides!”

“You must marry. You’re twenty-five. If you want to become Underboss, you need to be married. End of story. I won’t step down before then.”

“What’s my marital status got to do with anything? Do you think I’ll be a better Underboss because I’m married? Why should my men respect me only because of a marriage?”

I cleared my throat. Their voices had risen and could definitely be heard well beyond this room. “You don’t have to marry now, Orazio, but your father is right. At some point, you need to choose a viable bride at least. Our traditions are as they are and they won’t change any time soon.”

“And that’s good,” Giovanni butted in.

Orazio shook his head. “So if I’m not marrying one of the girls you want, I’m not becoming Underboss?”

“Surely you want to marry someone?” I asked, trying to remain calm even if their fury kindled my own.

“Of course, I want to marry. Just not any of the girls my father suggests.”

“As long as I take breath, you won’t marry an Outsider!”

I stepped between them because things were about to escalate in a way I couldn’t allow. “This is enough. You’ll have to figure out a way to get along. We’re at war. We need to stand together to fight the Famiglia. Petty family disputes are the last thing we need.”

Orazio met my gaze. “Allow me to return to Minneapolis and work for Pietro. I can’t promise anything if I have to stay in Chicago.”

“I don’t expect your promise, I expect obedience,” I said sharply, looking at both of them. “But for now, you can return to Minneapolis.”

Giovanni opened his mouth but I raised my hand. “This is a temporary solution. I want you two to work it out. You, Orazio, will have to decide on a wife by next year. And you, Giovanni, will consult with Orazio on possible matches. Figure this out, and don’t drag Val into this.” The last was said in a more threatening tone than I’d intended but Val suffered because of the escalating conflict between her father and brother, and she needed all her strength to take care of our children.

Orazio’s mouth tightened but he gave a terse nod. Giovanni sighed. “That sounds reasonable.”

“Can I leave now? I’d like to return to Minneapolis as soon as possible.”

“If that’s what you want,” I said.

“It is. I’ll say goodbye to the women and then I’m gone.” He turned and left my office.

Giovanni shook his head. “Am I too strict? I don’t know what he expects! He knows the rules.”

“Is he still with that girl?”

“No, he broke it off a long time ago. At least, that’s what he told me. I made my point very clear back then so I doubt he would have lied.”

“Maybe things will calm down once he’s married and he realizes it’s not the end of the world.”

“I hope Leonas won’t ever give you the same troubles.”

I hoped so too.

Eight months later

Bibi was a gorgeous bride. She was practically glowing. At her first wedding, she’d cried horrified tears in the bathroom after the ceremony. Today, she smiled and even though I could tell that she was nervous and a bit overwhelmed by the attention, she exuded happiness. Dario towered over her, dressed in a dark suit, his dark hair short and beard accurately trimmed. His expression was steel, a mask he’d probably developed as a lawyer for the mob.

Sofia, Anna, and Luisa were flower girls and looked adorable in their matching pink dresses. It wasn’t a big feast, only about one hundred guests and a celebration in the garden of Bibi’s mansion. To many people’s surprise, Dario had agreed to move into the house. His own penthouse wasn’t a good place for a family and his older brother had inherited the family mansion.

I tried to entertain Leonas, rocking him and singing his favorite song as I watched Bibi and Dario accept the congratulations of the crowd. Even Bibi’s parents seemed mollified by her second marriage. Not that those two had any business to shove their noses into Bibi’s life ever again.

Leonas squirmed in my hold, unhappy with being carried. It was early August and he was already quite mobile at eight months, pulling himself up all the time. He wanted to explore the garden on his own but with so many people around I couldn’t let him crawl over the lawn.

My eyes found Maria who was trying to calm down her crying two-months-old baby boy. Rocco was talking to Dante and my father near the bar, obviously unconcerned about his young wife’s distress. The girl was twenty and had not only been forced into a marriage with Rocco but also gotten pregnant almost immediately. It was obvious that she was overwhelmed. In the few times, I’d seen her since she’d given birth, she’d always looked close to tears.

I headed over to her with the still squirming Leonas and gave her an encouraging smile when I arrived at her side. “Hey Maria, are you all right?”

She nodded quickly. “Hello Mrs. Ca—”

“Please call me Val. No need for formalities. I’m not that much older than you.”

Rocco Jr. had quieted down in his mother’s arm, obviously fascinated by Leonas’ antics. An idea crossed my mind. “Why don’t you come over now and then so our boys can play together? Once they grow older the six months between them won’t be as obvious.”

Her face lit up. “Of course, if Rocco allows it.”

Already now I found it incredibly weird that both her husband and her son were called Rocco. This had been a common practice in the mob in the past but it just showed how obnoxious Rocco Scuderi was, and he really didn’t have the slightest reason to be.

“I can’t imagine him having anything against you meeting with the Capo’s wife and son,” I said with a smile. Fabiano headed our way. He had grown and was as tall as me. His boyish features had become harsher, vigilant and as I’d noticed before he walked as if his ribs hurt him. I’d have to have another talk to Dante about this. Making the boy strong for his future tasks was one thing, but abusing him was another.