Page 31 of Forced Vows

It's fake. All for show. And I want someone planning my birthday that cares about me. Not the right mob mentality, but it's how I feel.

"Wouldn't it be better to let mamo organize things like usual?" I wheedle.

Uncle Brogan is tapping on his phone. "Not the De Lucas," he says absently. "Miceli."

"I'm sure he'll make every plan without any help from his mother or sister-in-law." I don't have to roll my eyes for my uncle to know I'm being sarcastic.

Miceli all but said he doesn't plan to lift a finger for it.

"It doesn't matter who calls the caterer." Uncle Brogan goes back to his phone, clearly believing the discussion is over.

But I'm not done. "Only the perception of who throws the party is important."

Irish or Italian, organized crime families are all about appearances.

"It will let the rest of New York know that our families are joining," my uncle says, confirming my thoughts. "The other syndicates will speculate about an upcoming alliance between us and the New York Cosa Nostra."

Uncle Brogan's now benevolent, but patronizing tone shows he thinks he's doing me a favor by explaining.

It's my turn to correct him. "The Genovese Family you mean."

"They are the most powerful mafia in New York. If we have an alliance with them, we have an alliance with The Five Families."

A sudden thought sends cold chills through me. "Are we announcing the engagement at my party?"

"No." My uncle lifts one shoulder in an indifferent shrug. "When the time comes for that, the PR team will take care of it."

The modern criminal syndicate. We have a PR team and investment advice for our people to invest in a 401K.

Something I learned listening at grandfather's door and didn't understand until my high school economics class.

"For now, we let them know you are dating Miceli De Luca."

Great, I'm fake dating a mafia underboss, even if the marriage that's going to take place someday is 100% real.

"When will the PR people announce the engagement?"

It's possible I missed this key piece of information because of the six-foot-four-inch distraction that sucked my blood off of my thumb.

"Not right now. Severu wants to wait."

"Why?" I definitely didn't hear that.

Not that I mind. The longer it goes unannounced, the longer I can keep my connection to the Italian mafia from my friends at college. I don't want to think about what's going to happen when the engagement is made public.

Some people will be fascinated, others will cut me out of their lives. Like when my school friends discovered my grandfather was the Shaughnessy mob boss. Somebody knew somebody who recognized my dad when he came to the first play I had a leading role in.

And then everybody knew that I wasn't like them.

My uncle shrugs. "He's got his reasons."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Why should it?"

Isn't it obvious? "He could back out of the agreement."

"Not without forfeiting territory, which Severu De Luca will never do."

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