Page 1 of Savage Union
CHAPTER 1
Caterina Gallo
Family dinner isn'tabout family. Not in my world.
I shift in my seat at my father's favorite restaurant, watching him hold court. Tonight's guests include three retired members of the Italian Mafia who once served Don Giuseppe: Luigi "The Ghost" Romano, Vince "The Widowmaker" Caruso, and Roberto "The Viper" Morandi. Retired, my ass. No one leaves the mafia breathing.
And then there's my father's whore.
"Caterina, you are becoming such a lovely young woman," Martina says, her smile too bright, too practiced.
I meet her eyes. "Sure."
"Caterina, don't be rude to your aunt," my father warns, his voice carrying that edge I know too well.
"Please, she isn't my fucking aunt." The words escape before I can filter them.
"Watch your mouth." His eyes narrow dangerously as Martina places her manicured hand over his, a gesture of possession as much as comfort. Of course she's seated on his right side.
"It's alright, Tomasso," she coos. "She's probably having a bad day. You know these things happen with young people."
"You are right," my father agrees, his attention shifting to my mother. "Olga, you need to discipline your daughter."
My mother shrinks beneath his gaze. I feel my jaw tighten.
"Leave my mother out of this."
"I will, Tomasso," my mother promises quickly, her voice barely audible. "Mia figlia, please apologize to your Zia Martina."
I swallow the acid rising in my throat. "I'm sorry if I was rude, Martina." I push my chair back. "Now, excuse me, I need to use the bathroom."
I don't wait for permission.
Walking through the restaurant, I imagine burning the whole place down. This is where I perform the perfect daughter routine happens. Where I pretend we're a normal family. Where my father pretends he isn't a piece of shit who clings to Don Giuseppe's memory for status. My father claims he saved Giuseppe when they were kids.
But that's my father—always an angle. Always taking, never giving. Especially from his family.
I check my phone discreetly as I walk, disappointed to find no new messages. It's been three days since I heard anything from my contact across the river in Queens. The waiting is killing me. I'd been promised action by this weekend, a solution to my family's problems that would end my father's reign of terror once and for all. Maybe Liam got cold feet. Or maybe someone found out. Either way, I'm running out of time.
I slip the phone back into my pocket and continue toward the bathroom, still hoping the Irish will come through before it's too late.
I hear voices around the corner and freeze.
"Do you think Vito suspects?" It's Vince.
"Not yet. But it won't be much longer," Roberto answers.
I press myself against the wall, heart hammering. They don't know I'm here.
"Tomasso has been careful, so we have nothing to worry about," Vince says.
"I'm still not sure about Carlo. He is still a gamble."
"He's the only person on The Commission high enough to give us intel."
"I know, I just don't like it."
"Well, Tomasso said that Martina is working her magic."
