Page 47 of Mob Knight

Yes, the almighty Mancinelli family’sconsiglieredrove a minivan. With that many kids, either he or his wife had to have a vehicle that could ferry all of them around. Four brothers and one sister. Their mom drove a tank of an SUV. But itwas Massimo who pulled through the drive-through and got the happy meals for his kids after the games. They were in front or behind my family. My mom and dad always made sure they packed a special snack I could have while my brother and cousins devoured their chicken nuggets and cheeseburgers.

I didn’t mind being the odd one out because it was my choice. We’re all as healthy as it comes nowadays, but I’m certain all those cholesterol-riddled children’s meals will catch up with the guys in our old age. It’s not like I want to live forever. I’m happy to be alive today. But I also intend to enjoy my golden years without higher blood pressure than this life already gives us.

I knock loudly on Dillan’s door and wait for someone to open it. None of the couples can keep their hands off each other. It’s not like we had role models of propriety for that. All our parents are as in love and in lust as they were when they married. None of us have walked in on them, so we still have an open-door policy with our parents. It wouldn’t surprise me, though, if we’ve come pretty fucking close.

Dillan opens the door for me and smirks. I shake my head and his brow furrows. I’m certain he’s confused, as will be Seamus and Finn, when I let them know things cooled between Joey and me. I won’t go into any details about what she and I did in Obsidian’s private room, but I can let them know it didn’t work out.

“Hey, what’s up? How’s Mair feeling?”

“Better by the day, but it’s definitely touch and go. She had a fried egg on toast last night and was up most of the night.”

“Even something that bland?”

“Yeah. But she’s not overly concerned.”

“But you are.”

Dillan shoots me a remorseful frown before it morphs into a grin. He knows he hovers just as much as Finn does, but no one has been a prouder future papa than my two cousins.Family is everything to us. Before my generation met the women they’ve fallen in love with, most of us were certain we’d remain perpetual bachelors. None of us wanted to bring yet another generation into the mob. I think most of us hoped the O’Rourke name would die with us. At least the O’Rourkes being the boss and his immediate family.

Life carries on, as do families, so I can’t begrudge Dillan and Finn for wanting to have kids with their wives. However, it makes it difficult for all of us when we think about the life we’re going to leave behind to the next generation. I’m certain all the members of the Four Families in my generation think about the same thing. And it wouldn’t surprise me if our parents’ generation didn’t think about it too. But I guarantee there was pressure on them to breed more mobsters and Mafiosos.

It’s not like any set of parents didn’t rejoice with each kid’s birth. And it’s not like they hatched us rather than birthed us. But every family was encouraged to have at least an heir and a spare. It just so happened the families had so many sons. There are no bratva daughters in my generation, but Maks, Bogdan, and Niko each have little girls.

Maria Mancinelli is my generation. She’s the most untouchable woman in New York. She’s the daughter of the Mafia’sconsigliere, the don’s niece, the underboss’s sister, thecapo dei capi’s—the top captain’s—sister, and the wife of thecapo dei capi’sbest friend. Her third brother is the accountant, and her cousin is head of intelligence.

Dillan had a sister too, Colleen, but she died almost six years ago when a mercenary mistook her for Aunt Breda. It’s a subject we don’t avoid or ignore. However, it’s not one we discuss often. I don’t know how Aunt Siobhan and Uncle Tate survived losing their child. I’m certain Dillan was the reason they carried on. Unbidden, my mind jumps to Joey and what a family with her would look like.

Dillan leads me into the dining room where Shane and Sean are already devouring their breakfast. They’re only a couple minutes apart, and most people outside the family can only tell them apart by the freckle on the left side of Sean’s throat. They have distinguishing scars, but none of them show unless they’re undressed.

Five minutes later, Finn and Seamus show up too. I’m certain they walked over together since they live a couple blocks away from Dillan and a couple streets over from each other. They walk in on their own since Dillan already spoke to my brother and said he could. Márgrég—that’s Dillan’s wife’s full Irish name—is already at work. She went into the office early. She’s a lead investigative reporter for New York’s largest newspaper.

I grab a plate and pile fruit onto it just as high as the other guys. There’s a smaller plate with poached eggs on it. I know those are free-range ones Dillan set aside for me. I read in another article that poached is supposed to be one of the healthiest ways to eat eggs. I won’t melt cheese in the scrambled ones the way the other guys like them. I’m not doing some Rocky Balboa shite and eating them raw. That’s a good way to kill yourself with salmonella. Though I have been known to sneak a spoonful of raw organic cookie dough. Everything in moderation. I finish getting the rest of my food and join the guys at the table.

“Cormac, where’s your head today? You’re even quieter than usual.”

I shift my attention from my food to Shane as he cocks an eyebrow.

“Are you tired?”

Dillan, Finn, and my brother clearly already filled Sean and Shane in.

“Yeah, I am.”

I know that won’t suffice, but hopefully my tone tells them not to push too hard. Sean’s elbow nudges me as he fixes his stare on me.

“We hung out after we left McGinty’s but realized we’re not as compatible as we thought. It was an enjoyable night, but I doubt I’ll see Jocelyn again.”

It feels so strange on my lips to use her full name. However, that’s how I should think of her now. She’s not Joey to me anymore if she wants nothing to do with me. The guys let it rest. At least for now.

Our attention shifts to work. We don’t meet every morning to plan the day, but we do many mornings. We also alternate hosting Sunday family dinners. It’s my week to cook, so I’ll have everyone over in a few days. With nine households in the family, your turn only comes up once every two or so months. We spend time together out of necessity and by choice.

“What’s going on with Matteo? Is he still being a whiny little bitch about the yacht?”

I look over at Shane and grin. Matteo Mancinelli bought Maria the yacht Shane already had his eye on to give his wife as a wedding present. Shite went down between them, and now nobody has the yacht. Shane’s already replaced it with another one, and it wouldn’t surprise me if Matteo isn’t in the process of getting one, too.

But he’s been little Mr. Pissy Pants ever since. He was always the little bitch in the family who cried when somebody snagged one of his toys, even if he didn’t want it until somebody else had it. I know this because Seamus and I were in the same preschool class as him. We may not have gone to elementary and middle school together, but many of us went to the same Montessori preschool.

When outsiders meet us, they assume we’re some type of pro-athlete or trust fund baby. Most people don’t believe everymember of my generation in the Four Families went to Ivy League or top-tier universities. When they find out, most of them assume our parents bought our way in. Not a damn one of us got in on anything besides merit.

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