Page 28 of Between Dusk and Dawn

"She’s part of the Irish O'Malley family. She is a nice girl, a little younger than you."

I nodded, taking this all in. "And if I refuse?"

I would not marry this person. I couldn’t. Not when…

"You can't, Son."

"What happens if I do, though? Entertain me." There was always another plan, Father. It was what he’d taught me.

"If you get married to her, I’ll step down. You can have the entire empire at your hands."

I huffed out a chuckle. He was fucking good. Over the years, my meek father had hardened, and he knew the carrot he was dangling in front of me. It was something I’d never resist. It was the one thing I wanted more than anything on this earth.

I wanted power. I wanted to stand upon a throne and call it mine. I wanted everyone to bow down to me, knowing I was all mighty. Stronger and more powerful now, anyone who dared to walk in the path I craved for myself would face my wrath.

"You motherfucker," I said as I stood, my father joining me with a smile lifting his lips.

"I gotta think about it. Forward me her information and the deal they are offering us." My father nodded, and I gave him a hug before reaching back to shake Carlo’s hand.

"You’re a motherfucker, too, for keeping this a secret." He let out a laugh.

"My wife will be pissed if you don't take the pasta al forno in the fridge. It’s fresh from the oven."

"You know I will." I’d always wanted to sit at the cool kids table. Ever since I was a kid, it was a dream to feel wanted and desired.

Growing up, there were such expectations put on me to become the greatest, especially from my grandfather, that I made sure everything I did was calculated. I never played too many video games, in fear that would somehow make people think I was less cool. I never did more than one sport because I also didn’t want to come off as a jock.

Like taking Carlo’s wife’s pasta was done to ensure that the second-in-command appreciated me. She was a shit cook whose pasta was far too al dente and walked the line of uncooked half the time, but I took it with a genuine smile and appreciation for him.

I walked out of the door, down the hallway to the kitchen, and grabbed the aluminum foil pan before heading out in thecar. My dad’s house was modest for the capo of an Italian mob. It was in the center of town where we’d taken control of most of the area. It reminded me of a lot of movies when they’d talk about suburbia. The houses were all brick, far too close to each other, and there was practically no privacy between neighbors.

Although Dansport was a populated city, second to Seattle, the little area that our family had carved out still had an old-world charm to it. There were a lot of delis on street corners, Italian grocery stores, and most of the time at night, the women were spotted in their driveways with a small bonfire, mingling between homes.

My dad’s house was the largest on the block because of his status, but it still maintained that charm without being too ostentatious.

Inside, it was modern but warm, which was exactly what he told his interior designer he hated. He wanted this masculine frat pad, but we all vetoed him because it looked tacky. The only place he got to keep his red and ornate gold was his office, and it looked like a king belonged inside of it.

"Hey!" my father shouted when the door to the office swung open as I was heading out the front door.

"You gotta live in the neighborhood, too, you know?"

"Who?" I gave off a slight laugh, shaking my head before saying goodbye and walking to my black Ferrari parked in the driveway.

"And get rid of that obnoxious car. It’s like a target on our back."

What could I say? I liked flashy things.

I peeled out of the driveway and headed toward the edge of town. I hated living in the neighborhood. It felt too congested, and while I understood living there provided others with instant access to weapons, protection, and trivial gossip which oftentimes led us to leads, I preferred to live outside of town. Mysister had a cabin in this area, so I bought the house next door. Although she lived in the countryside most days, it worked for both of us, giving me the ability to look after her house.

As I made my way out of town, I realized I’d have to move into the neighborhood if I were to marry this Irish girl. She would need the added layer of protection the community could provide, especially when I was gone for long periods.

The ringing of my phone through my car’s speaker snapped me out of my curiosity.

"Boss." Enzo’s voice filled the sports car, and I immediately knew something was off. There was a sense of urgency in his tone.

"What’s wrong?" I asked, gripping the steering wheel.

I weaved my way in and out of traffic as much as I could, but because it was Friday, it was more crowded than usual.

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