Page 3 of Now and Forever

“There are organizations that want our product and in exchange will help protect what is ours.”

I wiggled to the edge of the chair. “What other organizations are you talking about?”

“The Italian Mafia.”

My eyes widened in wonder. “The cartel and the Mafia have never joined forces.”

“This is a new era.”

I’d never imagined a day when cartel members would trust the Mob.

Papá continued, “Jorge has taken his time to determine the best avenue. He’s been in contact with capos from around the country. The Italians have their share of infighting, but as a whole, they’re strong. Not as strong as us, but working together, we will be stronger.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

Papá stood and gripped the back of the chair. “It has long been the practice within the cartel and for centuries with the famiglia, that the sincerest demonstration of unity is family. I spoke to Vincent Luciano—the capo of the Kansas City Famiglia—myself.” Papá straightened his shoulders. “The deal we agreed to will unite the Roríguez cartel and the Kansas City Famiglia. Vincent Luciano is a legend in his own right. He’s ruled KC for years with an iron fist. He’s getting older and there are rumors about his health. Rumors are weak links in a chain of power. It’s time for Vincent to step down and for his son, Dario, to take over as capo.” Papá narrowed his dark gaze, seeming to judge my understanding. Finally, he added, “A single man is not as respected as one with a wife.”

My mouth went suddenly dry. “A wife?”

“A single man goes into the position already showing weakness. Marriage shows stability.”

“Papá, what does…?”

“The Italians marry young. Eighteen is preferable.”

“Camila,” I nearly shouted as I visualized my little sister. “No, Papá. She’s been accepted at SDSU. She’s too young to be married off. How old is Dario?”

“He’s thirty-five.”

“Thirty-five,” I repeated. To an eighteen-year-old, thirty-five was ancient. “No, don’t do that to her.”

Papá shook his head. “Dario doesn’t want to marry a child. Jorge offered a more mature woman. He offered you.”

“He offeredme?” How was that even possible? I wasn’t his to offer.

Before I could say more, Papá lifted his chin. “It’s done. I approved.”

The buzz of a million bees hummed through my head as I stood. “I don’t want to marry him either. What about Mireya?” She was my cousin—the daughter of Uncle Nicolas, another of Jorge’s top lieutenants. Mireya was a year older than I am, and I honestly didn’t want this to be her fate either, but I was grasping at straws.

“Mireya is not as beautiful as you, Cat.”

“She is.” We looked similar with our dark hair. Mireya had big brown eyes where mine were my mother’s green.

“You know Mireya’s history.”

I did. Uncle Nicolas wasn’t aware of Mireya’s birth until she was nearly nine years old. Once he found out about her, he saved her from a horrific excuse of a mother. The specific details have never been shared with me, only that Uncle Nicolas wished he’d known sooner. Since he found her, Uncle Nicolas and Aunt Maria have loved her as their own. She’s grown up in a life similar to mine, one of privilege, wealth, and the protection of the cartel.

“Your uncle has been spared the knowledge that Jorge thinks less of Mireya due to her birth mother. Patron told me that Mireya wouldn’t be as significant of an offer as you. If Jorge had daughters, it would be right for his daughter to marry Dario, but he only has sons.”

Marriage was supposed to be about love. “I don’t want to do it. This isn’t the old country.” The more I pleaded, the more my pleas fell on deaf ears. “Please, Papá, say no.”

“No one says no to Jorge.”

I knew in the pit of my stomach he was telling the truth. No one said no to Patron and remained in good standing.

A thirty-five-year-old future capo of the famiglia.

I took a step toward the large desk and forced myself to stay upright. “This is done?” I wouldn’t allow tears to flow. Maybe I had time to change the agreement. “When will we marry?”

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