Page 39 of Third Degree

Because of what my sons had created, there was really no need for Ricardo or the rest of the Gambini family to use or have any ties with the Ricci family anymore. We could pipeline and get guns through other sources.

It was untraditional and would take some convincing, but what I wanted to do would piss off the Gambini family and possibly start a war.

But it was time I did something for myself,for once.

“Is your brother here?” I called from the front door.

“Yes.” I heard my youngest son coming down the stairs.

“Good. We need to sit down.”

“Is everything okay?” Julian asked, bringing us three espressos from the kitchen.

“Sit at the table,” I demanded of my boys. We all meandered to the large wooden dining room table at the center of the room.

Alex sat next to his older brother, the former being the leaner and more clean-cut of the two. He had his mother’s square face shape whereas Julian and I looked cut from the same cloth. We were both a little rougher around the edges. Alex’s dark hair was cropped short whereas Julian’s was long and hanging in his face today.

“Is Tatum here?” I asked Julian.

“No. She’s out with her friends Daphne and Chelsea.”

I inwardly cringed at the fake name Daphne gave.

“How is she?” Alex asked about whom I could only assume was Chelsea since he gave me her address yesterday.

“She’s at home. Safe,” I affirmed.

“Good. Thank you.”

I nodded. “I need to talk to you boys about something and will have to call Ricardo to get him looped in as well.”

They both leaned forward in their chairs.

“I’m getting married,” I declared, the words hanging in the air with a mix of surprise and intrigue. Alex almost spat out his espresso while Julian remained composed, his gaze carefully fixed on me.

It felt surreal to even say those words aloud. I never imagined after losing my wife that I’d be getting married again. I was one of the lucky ones who could say that they had lived and experienced two of the greatest love stories.

“Sorry, did I hear you correctly?” Alex finally managed to speak. “You’re getting… married?”

“Yes.” I nodded.

“To whom?” Julian’s direct question pierced the room, fully aware that I never made impulsive decisions.

“A woman,” I responded, watching as their eyes narrowed, silently urging me to elaborate. We grew up with a code of limited information sharing for safety’s sake.

“Are you okay with it?” Julian asked, referring to his mother, my late wife.

We had made a pact to avoid relationships after her passing, but life had other plans. Julian himself was getting married, and Alex had his own crush on the friend I had just driven home.

“You’re getting married, son. You’re going to be a governor,” I stated, casting my gaze upon both of them. “It’s high time we all grow up. Your mother would have wanted this. She’s going to make me happy.”

“Who is she?” Alex inquired, curiosity piqued.

“She’s the daughter of another family’s capo,” I revealed, not delving further into details. They understood the nature of our lifestyle—marriages forged for business alliances.

“What’s the catch? Why are you telling us now?” Julian pressed, ever the strategist.

“Because they won’t know it’s me at the end of the aisle until the day of,” I confessed, revealing my carefully crafted plan.

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