Page 97 of Mafia Star

“Congratulations! Another sister. Hallelujah.”

Maria claps as she smirks at Marco. If they were kids, I think she’d stick her tongue out at him. I can totally picture her as a little girl. I bet she was a total tomboy and determined to keep up with her brothers and cousins. I’m pretty fucking positive she was the true ringleader most of the time. From what I can tell, you won’t find a sweeter person than Marco’s little sister. But I also think you couldn’t find a better person to get in trouble with.

“Lizzie, two sisters marrying two brothers.”

Chelle winks at me, and I can’t help but laugh at our inside joke. Back when boy bands were the thing, we stumbled across New Kids on the Block from the ’80s. Neither of us wanted Jonathan or Jordan Knight. We both wanted Joey McIntire— never mind the obvious age gap. Since we couldn’t both have him, we looked at Donny and Mark Wahlberg. We would have gladly gotten between Marky Mark and his Calvins. Alas, no two brothers for two sisters in that band. But we definitely thought about it. Now we get our tween dream.

Marco stares down at me, and all I can do is shake my head. Chelle and I pinky swore we’d never share our plan. That only makes me laugh harder. When she laughs too, I know we’re thinking the same thing. Considering how much time the Mancinellis spend together, I’m excited to know I’ll see my sister more often than I have since I left for college. I moved to Brooklyn after college and stayed during grad school. Chelle moved away for college and law school before getting a place in Manhattan.

When I look up at Maria, I see her watching us. From the twinkle in her eye, I have a sneaking suspicion she’ll be feeding us plenty of ammunition against her brothers, one of whom is her husband’s best friend. When I look at the other younger women at the table, I realize how fortunate I’ll be to have more sisters and cousins who can help me get used to this new life. As I look at the older women, they all seem to ignore my antics with Chelle and Maria, but I can tell they’re happy we’re all getting along already.

It’s not long before Enzo and Matteo return, both inhaling two plates of food each after greeting their wives and mothers. I expect Marco to head to his father’s study with the other guys while I wait with the womenfolk.

“Beth, can you come with us, please?”

“Okay.”

I glance at Chelle who shrugs and goes back to playing with her new and my soon-to-be niece, Petra. I take Marco’s hand and follow him into the office. Cesare is the last to enter, so he closes the door behind him. They clearly designed the room as a library since this is probably a Prohibition Era or slightly older home. It’s spacious for all the men crammed in here. Marco guides me to a loveseat. None of the men sit until I do. I’ve noticed that about them. They don’t sit until the women do. In several situations, they’ve stood when a woman has. Old world charm that I hope our generation passes on to the next.

Salvatore sits in an armchair near his brother’s desk. It’s obviously Massimo’s domain, but Salvatore still has a presence. The two brothers could practically be twins, except Salvatore’s hair is a little closer to black. Considering how much Massimo’s sons look like him, I have a good idea of what Salvatore must have looked like as a young man. I think he was in his mid-thirties when he became don, so not terribly much older than Marco is now. As my gaze sweeps around the room, there isn’t a man from either generation I couldn’t picture leading their family and their branch. They’re imposing and impressive. Salvatore’s voice focuses me back on the present.

“Liz, we could talk to just Carmine and Marco. But we’d like to hear from you. You might have noticed something the men missed. It’s not that we don’t trust your brother. We do. He proved himself today from what Pauly told me. But for everyone’s safety, it’s better that he not be part of this meeting.”

Because they could force him to testify, just like I could be until Marco and I marry.

“I understand. Do you want me to start from the beginning?”

“Yes, please.”

Marco laces his fingers with mine while I look at Salvatore and replay aloud the afternoon and evening in my mind. I close my eyes for most of it, so I can picture everything. Now that it’s over, and I’m safe, I realize just how truly fucked-up it was. How truly capable I am of setting aside what most people would consider morality to do what I felt I had to in the moment.

When I finish my story, I look at Massimo and Cesare. Both men look a little green, hearing about the danger their sons faced. I’m certain it isn’t the first time they’ve heard the play-by-play, but maybe I told it differently as an outsider or as a woman. Either way, they both look like they could be ill. I’m positive it’s not from the part where I told them about gutting the attackers like fresh venison.

Salvatore observed me— assessed me — or at least it felt that way —the entire time I spoke. His expression was inscrutable. The man could go to Monte Carlo, Atlantic City, and Vegas and win every poker game. Now that I’m finished he leans forward, and I get an almost paternal sense from him. Maybe an uncle.

“Liz, there’s nothing easy about families like ours. We try to be as normal as we can when we’re together, but you’ve already seen that can be cut short without notice. All the women who’ve joined our family have faced some type of— challenge, if you will —but you’ve certainly faced the most violent. You’ve seen more in a few short weeks than even most Cosa Nostra women born into this. Your strength is commendable, and I can’t thank you enough for your dedication to protecting my nephews. I don’t know what I would do if I lost either of them. You’ve certainly impressed my men, which is no small feat considering how jaded they’ve been since the womb. Marco has always been the most reserved in the family. He is the strong, silent type in any situation that doesn’t involve teasing his siblings, cousins, or friends. Despite all this mishigas, he’s more relaxed than any of us have ever seen him. You’ve brought that out in him. If you’re willing to take on Eeyore and all that comes with this family, we welcome you. I welcome you as my newest niece. You’re an improvement on any of my nephews.”

Did the world just flip upside down? First of all, I don’t expect an Italian don to use the Yiddish word for craziness. But this is New York. Everyone speaks at least four words of it. Second, I never would have thought Marco was the most reserved. I thought that was Luca. Enzo’s the laid back one. Third, he thinks of me as his niece. I just thought of him like an uncle. I belong.

“Thank you, Salvatore. This has certainly tested me, but being with Marco far outweighs any obstacle anyone throws at us. I wish I hadn’t been pushed into this and interfered with your business. But everyone has made me feel part of this family since the start.”

“You never interfered, Liz. You being here right now isn’t interfering with anything. You being caught in all of this is something I won’t accept, but it wasn’t interference. We’re all glad you are here. All of this would have happened regardless of whether you were in our lives. You didn’t cause this. But you have helped my family survive.”

“I appreciate that. You’re a little intimidating. It’s nice to know I belong.”

Marco snorts.

“You think he’s intimidating. Wait until you really get to know Natalia. Take every intimidating expression Uncle Sal has and pack it into a ten-year-old who thinks you need to grow up. Luca better have a son, or she’ll be our don after him.”

Salvatore beams with pride as Marco describes his cousin who’s young enough to be his daughter. Enzo chimes in.

“She doesn’t get that from Uncle Sal. That’s Aunt Sylvia. If Uncle Sal is the head of the family, then Aunt Sylvia is the hand that turns it.”

I hold my breath as I dart my gaze from Enzo to Salvatore, who only smiles even wider.

“That’s why I fell in love with her before I even said hello.”

Okay. This family teases each other. A lot. Like more than you could ever imagine given what they do. But even by most standards, I think they bust each other’s balls more than most. Marco’s arm is around my shoulder, and he nudges my other with his shoulder.

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