Page 72 of All Your Lies
Gage stays quiet for a minute before his eyes reach mine. “When I went in, time stood still for a while. These songs represent good memories, and I guess I’ve held onto them. Don’t get me wrong, I got to listen to music in there, but the new stuff is complete shit and doesn’t hit the same.”
My heart aches as I hear his words. I’ve been so lost in the bitter taste of his betrayal that I overlooked the long years his life was at a standstill. He missed out on so much and will never get that time back.
Before I know it, we pull up to the valet of a restaurant I’ve never been to. I step out, and Gage rests his hand on the small of my back as we walk through the front doors. It isn’t lost on me how good his hand feels as he guides me to a secluded circular booth far into the restaurant.
As I scoot in, I survey my surroundings. The inside of the restaurant is dark and moody. Not like at the club, but dark in a Victorian Gothic aesthetic. Intricate pointed arches are at every booth entrance. Each arch has delicate carvings. Black isthe most prevalent color on the walls, floors, booths, and tables. A gold chandelier sits high over our table with dozens of real candles to light our meal.
“Wow. This place is beautiful.”
“Just like you,” Gage whispers in my ear.
My head snaps his way as I lean back. “Why are you so close?”
His only answer is a smirk as he leans closer to me.
“Good evening, Mr. Moretti and...” I straighten as I gaze at a server in his mid-fifties.
“Mrs. Moretti.” My head whips back to Gage as his hand rests on my thigh and gives it a little squeeze, halting my objection.
“Oh, my apologies. Congratulations, sir.”
“Thank you,” Gage says with a huge smile even though I’m shooting him daggers with my eyes and failing to wrench his hand from my lap.
“What can I get for you tonight?”
“We will have the three course. All sauces on the side, please.”
“Right away, sir,” the server says before bowing and walking away.
“Why did you order for me? What if I don’t like it?”
“Steak because it’s your favorite. Sauces on the side since you’re weird about them.”
“You’re... intense,” I say, at a loss for words.
I wonder if it will always be like this, with him taking the lead at every turn. I’m uncertain whether I despise it, or worse, enjoy it.
“You smell good.”
“Thanks,” I say as I try to scoot away from him.
His grip locks on my thigh. “Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult? Just sit next to me, please.”
“We thought that was you.” I glance up and see Mr. Gualtieri and Mr. Baccalieri, two of my father’s three associates.
Like my dad, they’re also retiring. It’s a weird tradition. There are five families, Moretti being the boss at the top of the pyramid, Rossi, Gualtieri, Baccalieri, and Lombardi being the respective capos. When the last heir becomes of age at twenty, a transition of power takes place. The parents retire and make way for the younger generation to step up, which is us. There is no ambiguity in the rules; they are straightforward and nonnegotiable. We must have arranged marriages between the families for strength and alliance, and we must have children simultaneously, ensuring our offspring grow up together and form a bond. We then relinquish control and let them lead the way.
Usually, you hear about a head dying and someone taking over, but not in our pillar of the Italian Mafia. Its intention is to maintain peace by discouraging individuals from engaging in a power-hungry struggle for wealth and influence.
The thought of Gage and me having to uphold said tradition has me glancing over at him with trepidation. Children will be expected, and soon. I don’t know how I feel about that. Though I’ve always dreamed of having a large, loving family. And I’m sure Gage would be a wonderful, nurturing father, just like my dad.
“It’s nice to see you, gentlemen,” Gage says as he stands to shake their hands. “I spoke with Manuel, Tony, and Rocco today. Everything’s looking good.”
The thought of their sons makes me wince. With no rules to govern their actions as children, chaos and destruction became their primary interests whenever we all got together. From them lighting my playhouse on fire to taking my dad’s Maclaren on a joyride—and I’m sure that’s not even the worst of it.
Since I last saw them, I doubt they’ve transformed into anything other than monstrous beings. It’s going to be painful working in such proximity, especially since Gage, Marco, Rosie,and I never bonded with them like we were supposed to. The clash of power and dominance was always present, making it clear they considered themselves superior. However, Gage and Marco will always be superior and rein over them. It’s just the way it is and will always be.
“Yes, we heard about the fat that was trimmed. I had my doubts, but I think you’ll be a fine leader,” Mr. Gualtieri mutters. It takes a minute to realize the fat he’s talking about is Gage’s father. Gross.
