Page 17 of Cruel Tyrant

“Probably not, but I’m handling it.”

“What’s she like?” My sister glances up at me. “Are you going to kill her?”

I try not to smile. That’s exactly the kind of question she’d ask. Laura’s like me—there’s something missing in her, or there’s something that was taken away a long time ago. We understand each other better than anyone else in the family, and we’ve always been sort of outsiders together. Angelo, Simon, and Elena take after my parents; Laura and I are something else completely.

“No, I’m not going to kill her,” I say very softly. “I think she’s going to be useful.”

“Useful?” Her eyebrows raise. “She’s a mafia princess. Isn’t she just some spoiled little brat?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I don’t think so.”

Laura snorts and shakes her head. “Everyone else will make nice and bend over backwards so she feels at home, but don’t expect me to give a shit.”

“I wouldn’t dare, darling sister.”

“As far as I’m concerned, she’s a liability. Honestly, what was Dad thinking, making you get married?” A bit of worry slips into her tone. “You’re okay, aren’t you? With all this?”

“As okay as I can be.” I stare at Stefania as she laughs at something Elena said. That sort of easy comfort is something I won’t ever experience, not like that anyway, the way Stefania can slip into a new role and put on a smile, maybe even form real bonds with people she barely knows. That’s never been for me.

“Good.” She punches my arm. “I’m happy you’re home.”

“I can tell. You’re practically beaming.”

Her eyes roll. “Tell your wife I hope she gets hit by a car.” She hesitates at the look I give her and sighs. “Okay, I hope she gets hit by a car and dies a quick, painless death. Happy?” She walks off, shaking her head like I’m the annoying one.

But that’s just the way she is. She’ll come around to Stefania eventually—though it might take a while. Probably a few years, if we’re lucky.

I rejoin the others feeling stiff and uncomfortable, though I do my best to hide it. I don’t like indoor crowds—outside, they don’t bother me, but inside, a bunch of people shoved into one cramped space makes me feel small and trapped. It’s something I’ve worked on and tried to deal with over the years, but it hasn’t gone away no matter what I do, though I’m much better now than I was when I was younger. Even my own family makes me feel it, though—the crawling sensation on my skin, the heat on the back of my hand, the bars of my cage pressing down, forcing me into a stoop, forcing me into the fetal position, crushing me against the floor?—

“Davide?” Mom puts a hand on my shoulder and I realize people are staring. My heart’s racing in my chest and sweat’s beading down my back. I must’ve spaced out again.

“I’m okay.” I pull away from her and force a smile on my face. The only way I can make everyone stop staring at me is if I pretend like everything’s totally fine, and I’ve gotten good at doing that over the years. “Did Stefania tell you all about how she went to college?”

“Really, dear?” Mom turns away, intent on a new target. “Tell me all about it.”

Stefania glances at me for a second longer and I glare back at her, almost daring her to say something. Instead, she talks about her time at the University of Pennsylvania. Elena’s jealous—she always wanted to go to college but wasn’t allowed—and Dad’s impressed that Stefania graduated from such a good school.

Mom eventually pulls Elena and Stefania aside, pours them some wine, and the three of them retreat out into my back yard. I stay in the kitchen area with Simon and Dad, and drink a toast to my wife’s good health and her reproductive viability.

“We’re glad you’re back,” Dad says, his happy expression fading away, leaving behind Alessandro Bianco, the Don of the Bianco Famiglia, the man who raised me, my father and my boss. “The Santoros have been making noise again. They’re unhappy about the docks situation, and one of our boats mysteriously sank three nights ago.”

I grunt in reply and down my whiskey. “Let me guess. You think it was one of Luciano’s men?”

“I need you to look into it. I don’t care if you find the guy who actually did the job, but someone’s got to pay dearly. Do you understand?”

I nod slowly. I understand very well. When Dad gives me a job, he knows exactly how I’m going to handle it.

With lots of blood and bullets.

“Here’s to the Bianco Famiglia,” Simon says, raising his glass.

I get a refill and drink to his toast.

Chapter 10

Stefania

I stand alone in the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror.

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