Page 48 of Owned By the Mafia

“We need to talk,” I say.

“Right now?” he asks, looking at Katya.

“While we drive home.” I look at him confidently.

“Let her,” Katya groans, holding her head. “Anything to just get going.”

Once we’re all in, I look at Alessandro. “The infighting. The division. I know how to solve it. I know how to make the families see that our union is good. The problem isn’t necessarily that they hate each other. It’s that they don’t even know each other. They don’t feel valued.”

Alessandro strokes Katya’s head softly. She’s lying on the seat with her head in his lap. “Okay, I’m willing to listen to your plan. If it’s not too insane.”

Chapter 28 - Dinara

One week later

The men grumble. The Irish are in the middle, the Russians to the right, and the Italians to the left. Clear spaces are left between each fraction so they won’t be near each other, but dirty looks are being thrown like confetti.

I stand at the back with Robbie, holding his hand.

A lot of the men are asking why they’re all there. What is happening? Questions like that, and Robbie squeezes my hand.

“We’ve got this,” he says quietly. “I’ve got you.”

We walk through the spaces and get up on the stage in front. The venue is enormous, fully catered, and with an open bar. I really hope this works.

There’s a bit of an outcry when they see Robbie and me together, but I hold my hands up. “Hold up. Hold up. Hold up.”

I look around, trying to make eye contact. “None of you are happy about the unions. We’ve heard you. None of you are happy with the new processes. New ways of doing things. New territories to protect. New people to work with. You have to deal with all these new things, yet no one’s asked you what you want. Right?”

There is a murmur of agreement, and I nod, taking a steady breath. “Well, I have thought about it long and hard, and I’ve discussed the problem with the heads of the families. They are the heads of our united family. Regardless of where they come from, everyone in this room now belongs to this united family and should be seen as valued members. So,” I hold my hands up as a few protesters shout. “We are rewarding all of you for everything you do. Without your loyalty, there would be no family, and what better way to reward your family than to take care of the future.”

Robbie squeezes my hand and looks around. “Your wages will be increased, first of all. To reflect the hard work you’re doing. Then, your children's education will be provided for. They can go to university, a decent university, and make something of themselves.”

“Free medical care for your entire family,” I shout, as everyone murmurs in disbelief. “And the families will secure your children high-paying jobs within the company, pay for their first cars, and help them every step of the way. You are our family. We are loyal to you.”

Robbie looks around at the disbelief on so many faces. He nods. “So, as one family in this room, I declare this our first family party. You may start.”

There’s silence. We wait with bated breath. One of the older Irish men strides over to a tall Russian, and they look each other up and down.

“I’ve never tried proper Russian Vodka,” the Irishman says. “I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

“My friend,” the Russian chuckles, “we will mix tonight. I will drink fine whiskey, and I will introduce you to fine Vodka.”

They put their arms around each other's shoulders and walk toward the bar, and with that, the tension in the room dissolves as the men start introducing themselves to each other, mixing with each family.

I smile at Robbie as he squeezes my hand. “You did it,” he says. “You made them a family.”

“They were always a family. They just needed to be shown that,” I say proudly.

The doors at the back open, and higher-ranked family members with their wives file in to join the men. Finally, Ivan, Tori, Alessandro, Katya, and Ronan walk in, too.

There’s a pause before the crowd completely erupts in cheers and applause. They look so smug with themselves as they shake hands and greet their men.

Robbie tugs on my hand. “Come on.” It’s a whisper, and we slip off the stage and through a side entrance.

“Where are we going?” I giggle.

“I can’t wait anymore. I’m going to burst if I don’t have you,” he says.

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